If an Autobot, do NOT do the following
by hummergrey
Summary: Humans and Transformers have a lot to learn to coexist. These are the fun times and cultural differences of two worlds. Prank pulling twins, Annabelle, Wheelie, Autobot femmes, a ninja Bumblebee and the Allspark add to Prowl's problems, hence his rules.
1. Chapter 1 Off to a good start

Author's Note: Okay, I have seen several 'list of rules' fics and could not resist my own addition with stories attached to the rules. Please review and let me know if you this one chapter to become more than one simple piece. If you want to expand any of these into fics go for it. Please send me the link so I can read them and post in my profile.

I keep my rating T for teen and stick to fluffy, lighter family stuff. Story arcs may be more intense with battle injuries and war references. I do NOT do gore, severe angst, or other extremes. For other reading, there are over 2,000 fics in this movie TF category not counting the M Mature and over 12,000 in the cartoon versions of TF fics. Lots to choose for whatever your tastes are.

Thank you for stopping by here. With over 1,200 reviews, readers obviously agree and like this. Moreover, this fic has inspired over a dozen other authors! So enjoy! Onward to a new beginning.

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At NEST headquarters, Second in Command Prowl scanned the corridor ahead, guaranteeing no twins, as both sets meant trouble to his processor, were in sensor range. His wings doors high and weapons ready, the officer watched to avoid stepping on humans and triggering pranks left by fellow bots. Prowl entered his office while pausing automatically. A quick digital scan confirmed no tampering with any of the security settings. Relaxing his wings lower, he brought up the lights and began prepping the data pads for daily reports. "Supplies lists, status checks, Ratchet's medical updates, Prime's reviews and oh yes, my personal favorite. Prohibited items by and for all Autobots." That document scrolled by on the screen, already longer than he had thought possible. "Will this never end?"

_5. Do not change the order of the letters on human keyboards._* Not all humans can type by touch. General Morshower did not appreciate late and mangled reports from base personnel.

_8. While in alt modes, all holographic drivers will be clothed! Do not provoke unnecessary reactions from other drivers as this causes unsafe driving conditions and potential crashes. _

Prowl pinched his nose plates with an armored hand, remembering how naively he had thought the rules would stop at about ten or so.

15_. Do not download music and repeat lyrics without fully understanding the words, near humans, especially females of the species._ *Mudflap, Skids and any music called Rap, Hip Hop, or related and designated with 'explicit lyrics.'

_18. Do not comment on a human female's weight gain, but it is okay to comment on weight loss. _"Primus," Prowl swore. "Several of the human females, especially one particular drill sergeant, put Ratchet to shame on their wrench throwing, explosive reactions. We should send them to chase the Decepticons. Be nothing left to brig."

24._ No rerouting all internet connections to any hot robot sites especially after posing for your own online photo albums. _*Sideswipe, Sunstreaker.

_35. No parking in designated illegal tow zones, allowing yourself to be towed then breaking free and racing down the road the wrong direction._*Jazz, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe and Hound.

"Common sense is not common," Major Will Lennox had muttered once and Prowl had to agree. Which brought him to the next entry.

_54. No giving candy to Annabelle Lennox without clearing it with parental units AND Ironhide. _He shuttered his optics, memory cores replaying that incident all too clearly. Wheeljack had become fascinated with human dessert concoctions, deciding to make a lollypop for her as an after lunch treat.

"I wonder why no one ever questioned fifteen pounds of sugar, one barrel of corn syrup and enough color food dyes for a battalion unit," Prowl muttered. Normal in Wheeljack's hands, the resulting rainbow colored lollypop and been bigger than Annabelle. He had also incorrectly assumed she would take her time to eat it. Two hours later, her high pitched squeals had half the base running for their gear, thinking she was the attack alarm. She had shot by them all, running and dodging fast enough to put the Autobot speedster Blurr to shame.

"Annabelle! Stop!" Ironhide had commanded, black armored hands outstretched then blinked as she ran up, vibrating with energy, her hands and lips stained multi colors.

"Love you Ironhide and no stop having too much fun catch me if you can." And zipped right on by. Even Optimus had become concerned about how to corner her without injury.

Ratchet suggested a tranquilizer dart and was ready to use it until her dad and Ironhide had drawn near. "You are not shooting my daughter! What if you miss or something goes wrong?" Will yelled. Ironhide rolled his cannons once, ending that discussion.

They had simply cordoned off that section of the base; letting her run down while monitoring her vitals closely. Daytime became evening became night as she relaxed, falling asleep just before dawn. Ironhide threatened to slag the next mech to give sugar to his charge. For any reason. In any form. Ever.

_62. Do not answer telephones and pretend to be Ratchet's, Prime's, or my assistant and scheduling any type of appointment, meeting or public event._*Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.

_89. Do not masquerade as human children's entertainment rides, even if preventing graffiti or damage._

Prowl twitched his lip plates into a half smile at that entry. Local youth had done rampant damage with graffiti near the base ferry dock on the mainland until Mudflap and Skids had accidentally overheard two of them in town. That night the twins had snuck out, transformed into kids rides in front of the local grocery store and waited. The youths thought they were a rocket and horse ride for fifty cents and began to spray their paint. An hour later, the police found the youths hanging upside down, tied at their ankles and sprayed with weird alien symbols, babbling about robots and begging to be allowed to clean up the damage they had done.

_118. No reprogramming human kids' toys with Cybertronian upgrades and leaving around for the soldiers to find._*Wheeljack, Sunstreaker, and Sideswipe.


	2. Chapter 2 Transformers are not human

Author's Notes: Wow! Thank you for the reviews, and adding me to favorite stories/authors. I was not sure if anyone would read and love this. The list will keep growing and filling out as requested by you, the fans. In addition, the fact the Transformer / Human mix is just so fun! Chapter 2 is up and 3 is being revised as of 01/ 14 / 2010.

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"It took almost five thousand years for the Allspark temple scholars to compile the four hundred virtues of Primus and the Allspark. This list will reach four hundred before Annabelle Lennox is old enough to drive!" Prowl grumbled, watching the rules scroll by once again. He could have jumped to the end, but the logical tactician part of his mind reviewed it every time, noting possible additions and changes.

_11. Do not threaten, injure or take offense if a human asks you to open your trunk, look under your hood or uses phrases like 'nice wheels.' Especially if said human is from the motor pool department. NEST team members have been issued a memo on appropriate comments and actions regarding us. Any potential violations are to be reported to Autobot command and Captain Lennox immediately. _

_17. Do not imply human relationships to Autobots._

Prowl ground his lower faceplates in frustration. "Two genders, language translations issues and totally different means of reproductions I understand could create confusion. But Ironhide is not Optimus' grandfather; Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are not my sons! However much time I spend chasing and throwing them in to the brig. And Bumblebee is not an immature femme. "

_26. Do not help humans in their attempts to fly. Their species is not capable of self-propelled flight, no matter the appearance at the time. _*Silverbolt, any Aerialbot

This one Prowl had thought would be self-explanatory. Until a despondent youth had shown otherwise. "How was Silverbolt to know he was upset at breaking up with his girlfriend? Or he was jumping off the bridge to offline himself and not attempting to fly?" He shook his head, recalling Silverbolt's explanation of what happened next.

"I saw the young human male jump out, arms spread to catch the rising air only he began to descend. I realized he needed to get a better comprehension of lift so I caught him, and then threw him forward at an angle. He screamed in delight then began falling. I again caught, threw up and out and he soared a small bit then lost the lift again. Simply could not glide. He cried in gratitude for my assistance but I did have to leave him to continue my mission. 'I want to live, I want to live,' he yelled after me. I know I did the right thing. "

_33. Do not take it personal if a human hangs anything from the center windshield mirror. Do not throw it and/or the human out onto the road. Please turn it over to me._ *Ratchet, Ironhide, Skids, and Mudflap.

Prowl glanced over at a small carton on the left side of his desk. Crucifixes, fuzzy dice, several graduation cords, and even a pair of baby booties lay within. "Thank Primus no more air fresheners. Things reek. That human should have been grateful Ratchet only dumped him out, transformed, then withdrew that container of parts cleaner fluid from his leg hatch and hung it around the human's neck."

_48. Do not imply, state or acknowledge any fantasy world of the humans as being REAL including but not limited to Star Trek, Babylon 5, Star Wars, Stargate, Alien, Predator, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, the Day the Earth Stood Still and related. _

_74. When caught speeding, do not switch your holographic driver to a diminutive, aged female human. _

Prowl wavered on this one. Humans were law happy as far as he was concerned. Every Autobot had been cited for speeding, running red lights and more in their normal activities.

"Cybertron existed for thousands of years without accidents and a few laws and here there are thousands of laws and way too many accidents." His lip plates formed a grin, as he remembered how popular the ruse had become to the point the local newspapers had begun reporting on the 'speeding granny gang.' Optimus had banned any not approved holographic drivers from then forward.

_88. Do not practice stealth tactics on humans in the dark, especially after a horror movie fest night. _

The base's chief medical officer had ranted and raved on Optimus' desk for over fifteen minutes about irresponsible actions.

"You understand the weakness of human eyes and hearing limitations but not their hearts or minds? I am tired of psychosis and numerous panic attacks among the soldiers. Either you back off or I will ban movie night for all beings," the human medic had threatened.

Optimus had issued orders about sneaking up on humans and things had seemed to calm down. Until the night Stephen King's 'Christine' had played. The idea of a possessed, self-moving killer car had not gone over well. That was another rule however


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you to all the reviewers and for adding the story alerts. Prowl is happy too. Be happier if things were quieter on the NEST base but oh well. Several of these rules are now longer because of the adventure behind them and several will become their own fics shortly, depending on work and family and weather here. # 52 and #53 is per requests about swearing around Annabelle Lennox. Onward to the fun!

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_3. Do not tell civilians that NEST stands for 'Need to Eliminate Stinking Terrorists,' or 'Natural Enemies Selected thoughtfully,' or 'New and Emerging Science and Technology' or anything but what it stands for. *_Ironhide, Sunstreaker, and Wheeljack.

Prowl paused, running various memory search applications but came up blank. "I don't know what NEST stands for. Humans and their acronyms. Prime would know. Second thought, I better not ask him. He relies on me to know these things.

_4. Do not identify yourself as an Autobot or Decepticon (even in joking) around any humans without proper government authorized security clearance. And never answer: _

_a.) What, you can't tell? _

_B.) That's it! I'm so firing my talent agent for these low level appearances._

_c.) Your worse slaggin nightmare! _

_d.) This year's new Christmas prototype. Do you like my paint job? _*Sunstreaker, Sides.

_e.) A lost soul looking for love. _

_f.) A pissed off robot whose going to slag the next human that asks me that! _

_22. Do not watch a cartoon marathon then approach Ratchet with 'what's up Doc' repeatedly the next day. He will run out of wrenches, tools, chairs, tables then begin to throw the smaller Autobots. _

_52. No leaving datapads of any kind around Annabelle Lennox. Also, see rule # 53._

_53. No profanity spoken or written in either English or Cybertronian around Annabelle Lennox. _

Prowl smirked, briefly dropping his professional manner at this memory. "I understand Ratchet being fed up with the minor twins, Skids and Mudflap."

"There is no excuse," Ratchet had stated to them. "For not knowing how to read or write Cybertronian. You read and write English, why not our language? Even if not the ancient of the Primes but modern Cyberspeak?"

"Oh we can't read English either." Mudflap answered without thinking.

"We don't know nothing in any language." Skids had added then both blinked as the medic towered over them.

"How do you read road traffic signs?"

"We don't Ratch! We just move!" Both began running as wrenches started flinging their way. Caught, they were each handed a mini datapad.

"Do not lose those." Ratchet growled. "They are made small, made simple and will teach you both English and Cybertronian, in pictures as needed, and you will learn how to read and write and SPEAK CORRECTLY! IS THAT CLEAR?!"

Two hours later, Captain Lennox and Annabelle stopped in to retrieve some human files. Annabelle had walked over and seen the datapads. Skids had gladly turned his datapad over to her, not fearing what the five year old could do to it. Grinning, she hid it in her backpack and pulled out a mini tape recorder.

"I'm making a note to remind myself later to give this back to you. Otherwise I forget." Whether by accident or by fate, the tape recorder stuck on as she walked back outside. Ironhide was talking to newer arrivals. He looked down at Annabelle, nodded, and then gestured her to stay there out of the way.

"I don't talk to strange humans; I do talk to NEST members and our own forces. And I tell a Decepticon," he hesitated, remembering Annabelle then switched to pure old Cybertron. CLICK WHIRR SNARL SNATCH SNIKT CLICK CLACK HUM GROWL SNIK SNAK.

That night Annabelle realized how much her tape recorder had caught and began playing it back, trying to translate the phrase. "CLICK is miserable, WHIRR is sneaking, and SNARL is slagging. What is slaggin? Oh, melting. SNATCH is glitch, the ultimate Cybertronian insult and to be used only in extreme cases. SNIKT CLICK CLACK is not directly translatable. Means 'stuff up' and more. That's not helpful. HUM GROWL is Cannon blast will and SNIK SNAK is not directly translatable either."

For over a week, the child practiced and learned to repeat the phrase with the proper sounding before returning to base with her dad to meet visiting Congressional representatives. Optimus Prime had asked Sam and Mikeala also, wanting to show how earth children felt safe around the Transformers though Sam protested the child designation. It was the Committee Chairman that had been talking to Annabelle.

"Such a polite child. You know how to talk to military, and me. How do you talk to the robots?"

"The Autobots are smart. I talk to them like my dad."She waved at Optimus, glad to show her friends were nice.

"And to the others?" Quietly, they waited for her answer.

"Decepticons? They're all bad. I'd tell them CLICK WHIRR SNARL SNATCH SNIKT CLICK CLACK HUM GROWL SNIK SNAK.

The room was dead silent as Autobot jaws fell open.

"IRONHIDE!" They all yelled. Prowl was the one who kept Optimus from offlining Ironhide and finally decided on his punishment. The missing datapad was retrieved without the government official knowing they existed. Captain Lennox was stuck explaining to his daughter while the phrase was said right is was so wrong as to never repeat again.

_82. No retaliation on Earth cars for damage or insult caused by their drivers. _

Prowl closed his optics, feeling sheepish about not reporting the real reason for that rule to Optimus Prime. "I am a tactician and second in command. Sunstreaker was already in enough trouble. It wasn't his fault that driver was an idiot. It was the new liaison that started it." The man had driven his personal car to the base and somehow the door had become scratched. In retaliation, he keyed the military vehicle next to him. Of course, several Autobots had seen what happened and learned the human art of "keying the paint job."

"Sunstreaker was doing his assignment keeping a low profile on a rather deserted street by those apartments. He was monitoring for a potential Decepticon target when that drunk human male hit him from behind with that Prius Hybrid then left it wedged there. At least Sunstreaker confirmed it was not a Decepticon nearby and no humans were around before he transformed. Unfortunately, keying a car's paint job with a seven foot wide energon sword bubbled the paint job off of both halves of the car."


	4. Chapter 4

Another chapter and this one is a little unique. Blame a plot bunny! He hopped up, kicked my ankle and hopped off a page and a half later. Thanks to the fans and those who asked for rules based on suggestions. Here we go.

Time is Breem – 8.3 minutes, Joor – 6.5 hours, Orn – 13 days. Vorn – 83 years.

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Prowl entered his office, arms full of misc. "Four Decepticon attacks, two in populated areas, and no causalities. Thank Primus. The injured will recover, the governments will replace tangible things and Ratchet will be doing repairs for the next two orns. Ironhide and Mirage are chasing the last Decepticon contact, Optimus is dealing with human governments, and the base is quieting down again." A glance at his data console showed an update from Bumblebee. Sam was secure and intact; he had been studying with a friend upstate and missed the nearby attack.

"Sam is too important to be endangered. He should study with us. Even a Cybertron youngling knows more than earth's leading scientists. But Prime was adamant. The choice was for the human to make." Displeased, Prowl began sorting his armload. "Humans want alien contact," he dropped a set of keys, one burnt cinder of an air freshener, and a rabbit's foot charm into the first box, labeled _'confiscated from humans.'_

"Yet Sam won't dwell on base. " Two cans of silly string, three permanent markers, five containers of super glue, a bag of feathers and a dog shaped squeaky toy went into the box labeled '_confiscated from the twins.'_

"What does his college offer better than here?" Three electronic lock picks, a homemade Decepticon bobble head jet, two illegal plasma grenades, a map of the base perimeter with guard patrol times clearly marked, and a set of cyber cuffs went into the box labeled '_preventing future reports.'_

"His future is with us."

BOOM! An explosion rocked the floor, swinging the lights side to side. Prowl tensed, wings snapping up straight, waiting for the next move when the internal comm pinged.

:: My bad. Experiment went wrong:: Wheeljack

::Went wrong? Do any go right?:: Ironhide

:: How wrong?:: Prime

::Uhm, I'd open the door to look but it's not here anymore:: Wheeljack.

::The experiment?:: Ratchet.

::No, the door. I'm guessing it blew through the wall and onward from the sounds::

::Why sounds?:: Ratchet

::My optics are out. So are my legs:: Wheeljack.

:: *%#:: Ratchet. ::Don't move. I'll be right there::

::Human aid crews are also rolling:: Jolt

::I don't need their help:: Ratchet.

::It's for the fire on the neighboring two buildings. Found your door 'Jack. It's embedded in the airfield:: Jolt.

_**CONTACT TERMINATED **_

Prowl made a reminder to follow up the incident with report a joor later and finished sorting the pile on his desk. A pile of sticky notes across the desktop reminded him to update the Prohibited items by and for all Autobots list. "Please let these be there already," as he began scanning his datapad.

_43. Do not offer, agree, or interact with human sport teams or groups unless authorized by myself or Ratchet. All contact sports are prohibited for obvious reasons and other sports for non-obvious reasons. Also, see rule # 44._

Basketball, golf and volleyball were too boring for a race that fought for survival for thousand of years. Baseball had been sanctioned, pending the outfield was over the bay itself and not land. Then a drive line hit from Ultra Magnus had punched through the side of an oil tanker over two hundred miles away. None of the larger battle mechs were allowed after that.

"Our power, size and speed turn any sports item into a projectile weapon. "

"Flag football had seemed innocent enough. Humans playing with each other over a ball without weapons or the possibility of offlining. Transformers and supporters intermixed on each team. One play," Prowl thought. "And it turned into an outright brawl for both races. Thankfully no humans were crushed underfoot. And the femmes, Arcee and Chromia, betting on who would be the last mech standing didn't help. "

_44. Do not agree to referee, judge or monitor any sports team or group._ *Ironhide.

"How can a situation degrade into weapons fire so quickly? A soccer game with the score tied. Sudden death, with the next goal score. Then the ball moves so fast and close the humans can't tell if it landed or not. Ironhide the ref, who picked him? Says goal! It went in. That sergeant just wouldn't admit defeat and begins arguing, with a super size, cannon carrying ancient warrior.

"What are you, blind?" the man had yelled.

"My optics see targets small as your hair miles away and you question me?!"

"I want to win, sudden death and that was not a goal you glitch!"

Ironhide spun back towards the now abandoned goal, brought up his cannons and fired a dual blast. "Sudden death?! I'll give you sudden death!"

There were no more questions after that. The blast hole became the new base swimming pool. The soccer field was relocated to the other side of the airstrip.

_45. When assisting in practice drills, and playing a Decepticon, do not transform still wearing the Decepticon symbol in the middle of the mess tent, anyone's sleeping quarters or_ _on the firing range_. *Hound, Skids, Mudflap, Brawn, Gears and Windcharger.

The base's chief medical officer had ranted and raved on Optimus' desk for over fifteen minutes about irresponsible actions once again.

Optimus nodded gravely, barely able to contain his amusement over the small human's lecturing. "A base full of advanced technology, my Autobot family and the humans panic at a small purple symbol. Yet the military worries about our mental state and weaponry. I wonder if Megatron's afternoons are this exciting. "

_111. No humans are allowed in Wheeljack's lab. No matter whom they say they are, what credentials they flash or who they say their boss is. There are no exceptions to this rule. Do not let them in !_

_112. Do not use excessive force, grip or speed when evacuating a human from a dangerous situation, battlefield conditions or Wheeljack's lab. Review Ratchet's "_physical limitations of human elements_" teaching and upload the limits of their species if you have not already processed that file. _

_119._ _N__o Autobot, under any circumstances, are allowed to pose as a government authority vehicle outside of base, even if it is to 'protect the peace.'_

Prowl felt his system overheat slightly. Internal fans kicked in, cooling his frame. "Volt created the situation for that rule. We agreed to shadow Mikeala and Sam while Bumblebee was on a scouting mission. I was his back up, giving him tips on how to blend in with earth situations. And he worried about a single parking ticket."

Prowl parked across the street in the liquor store parking lot, watching without being directly involved. Jolt had stationed on the street outside the movie theatre, in case anything went wrong. Mikeala had reassured him, patting his hood before putting coins into the parking meter. "It's been quiet for months. I doubt they will target us here. But thanks for caring. See you in a couple of hours."

The parking meter had flipped TIME UP before the movie had ended.

"I can handle this. " Jolt reasoned, sending a small electrical charge into the meter. Small charge by Cybertronian battle standards that was. The meter sparked, flashed red and melted. The charge continued down the wiring, spread down the street destroying every meter and streetlight, into the block wiring, into the power grid before blowing the local power station.

Sam and Mikeala had appeared quickly, leaving with Jolt. Prowl finished a quick situation report and had been ready to send it when two humans crept by his alt form. Sensors detected a baseball bat and gun in their hands. The smaller of the two had stopped and backed away.

"Sure it's safe Artie? This is a cop car. Where's the cop?"

The other human had looked down and sneered. "Military police dimwit. Read the door words. Ain't got no authority here. I am the law now and I hear Jack bourbon calling to be free."

Furious, Prowl had triggered his transform, not carrying who saw. His battle mask snapped into place, weapons charging with an audible hum. "You will not break the law in my presence. I am a peacekeeper. And I will protect the peace."

Both men had screamed as they were grabbed and he transformed back into his alt mode. They were still screaming in the trunk right up until they were ejected on the steps of the local police station.

"No power means no security cameras and no one to report my transform. I docked my own pay three orns worth of energon credits, filed the appropriate paperwork and added this rule to my central processor. End of problem."


	5. Chapter 5

Keep the reviews and comments coming! *lays traps around house for plot bunnies* Little critters keep sneaking up and my to do fic list is almost as long as Prowl's rule list. Slag it. Never have enough time.

And thanks to other fic writers for catching what I don't. I never noticed the glyphs on Optimus and Ironhide in the second movie ROTF until two other fics mentioned it. One was "Instability" and the other I tried to go back and find but missed it or I would list it here; Ironhide's glyphs on the left side of his lower face. The glyphs are mentioned in a rule here. My beta reader thought this chapter was more serious and less funny. Can't win them all I guess. Till all are one.

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Prowl stepped around the piles of steel I beams, over the gypsum wall boarding, and ducked under Hoist's crane arm. "Repairs on the buildings around Wheeljack's labs are proceeding right on schedule." He nodded to those humans he knew personally, while a sub processor security routine matched the rest via face recognition scanning to base personnel lists. Each identify was confirmed, access level verified and tagged with a minimal security threat status as he continued into the building and down the hallway.

The office lights came up automatically as the sensors detected his presence. Datapads, files and notes were all piled neatly in stacks. "Everything in its proper place." He noted, extending a data entry port connection out of his wrist. It connected smoothly with the Autobots personal mainframe and his optics dimmed as the information flowed over the connection. Reports, rules and observations went in; data packets, logs, and military updates flowed back. As second in command, he had the authority to categorize and forward relevant information.

"Why 'Kittens needing a good home, 'or 'which movie star has been arrested for drug use' or 'top ten reasons humans burp' are added to these reports I will never know. Least our rules have some basis for existing.

_7. Do not replace, modify or upgrade any soldiers weapons in any way, structure or form. No exceptions. Any questions regarding this rule should seek the guidance of myself, Optimus Prime and Captain Lenox and refer to the alien treaty, sections 14 through 47._ *Wheeljack, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Hound, and First Aid.

"This rule was to prevent humans from getting their hands on our advanced technology but figures it was the twins who took it low tech." Prowl tapped his digits on the desk, calculating how easy the battlefield drill could have become a fiasco. "Two teams, weapons hot and automated drones to simulate enemy forces. I should have been suspicious when Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were on best behavior all week long. No brig time so they were guaranteed to see their handiwork. "

Team one had moved forward, triggering the Decepticon mini shapes to pop up. Three shoulder launchers fired rapidly, releasing what was supposed to be electrical containment nets. Instead, they had watched in disbelief as wads of colored silly string dropped. Then the simulated Decepticon launchers fired back, releasing concussion grenades. At least that is what they looked like. Until they exploded mid- air with a soft pop, dropping masses of white feathers. They floated through the air, a virtual snowfall.

Team two triggered their targets only to lose it laughing. Their Decepticon shapes were wearing human style clothes and makeup. Starscream wore purple and yellow pajamas complete down to the padded bootie feet and teddy bear in his crossed arms, while Megatron wore little red heart boxers and Mickey Mouse ears_. Sector seven nanny _was painted across his chest and his hand held a feather duster instead of a weapons cannon.

"That picture is not one I want to think of too often," Prowl grinned, returning to the serious of his job.

_12. Do not attempt to copy all human mannerisms. Facial expressions and some gestures are good cross cultural behaviors but respect physical differences. _

Ratchet had kicked his door open that day, waving a datapad and ranting before Prowl had time to even respond with a proper greeting. "These slag heads want me to give them ears. Ears!" the green and yellow mech sailed the datapad onto the desk, his blue optics blazing.

"For better audio reception?" Prowl had guessed, wondering who had been brave enough to voluntarily ask him to do a medical procedure.

"No! To wear sunglasses, headphones and to put pencils behind them! They want to copy humans. Deal with this. I have more important stuff to do than babysit these mental younglings." And Ratchet stomped back out before receiving an answer.

_13. All Autobots will respect and follow proper channels for requests. Not knowing who to ask or personal emotional enthusiasm is not a valid reason for ignoring this rule. _*Ratchet, Skids, Mudflap.

_14. Do not encourage Cybertron glyphs, language, or religious beliefs among the humans. When asked, you may explain, briefly, our engraved glyphs are names or what the glyphs are. Otherwise, refer them to myself, Jolt or Mirage. _

It was the human second in command, Epps, who noticed Ironhide's glyphs down the side of his faceplate. "What does that mean?" he had asked, as the team waited for their turn on the practice range.

"It is the source of my strength," Ironhide intoned, running a finger digit over the engravings. "My purpose for living, the desire of my spark, the very essence of my life when not at war. On the battlefield it reminds me of why I scrap Deceptiscum and why I fight for a better future." His blue optics glowed with the rare display of his emotions.

The soldiers had remained hushed, not wanting to interrupt the moment. A distant buzzer sounded, declaring the range open for the next group to begin. They all turned to the scoreboard to see how Lennox's team did and no one noticed the supply officer snapping a picture of Ironhide's face with his camera phone. That night, he was the first to get a tattoo to match. Running down the back of his left shoulder, it had remained hid for over a week. His Lieutenant saw it and asked about it. Intrigued, he visited the same tattoo parlor and returned to base with it down the inner calf of his left leg. Within a month, five more of the unit had it tattooed. Across shoulders, across a bicep, down the back of the neck, and more. Officers noted an overall improvement in team morale without realizing its basis.

Then the triplets made planet fall. Ironhide had been near uncontainable when the femme motorcycles pulled up and his sparkmate Chromia transformed.

"On a weird world of organics I find you." She had greeted.

"It's the finding that matters." Ironhide smiled, and then snarled at the grinning humans. "My sparkmate. Chromia will kick your aft into gear. No more slacking here or on the battlefield."

She was the one who noticed the glyphs on the humans first. Walking by the pool, her optics had narrowed, seeing Cybertronian on the man's shoulder. Then a swimmer climbed out of the pool, the tattoo on his leg gleaming with moisture. "Why do you have that sequence?" she asked.

"To give me strength and remind me why I fight." He had answered, and then gestured to the rest of his team. They each proudly displayed their marks to her. She had nodded, and then activated the internal comm system.

:: Ironhide, are these flesh beings our slaves?:: Chromia

::No, they are fighters. Supporters we call them. Why?:: Ironhide

:: Why do they have MY name on them then?::

:: What?!:: Ironhide.

:: See?:: Chromia flipped images forward of each man. They both went to Captain Lennox. He made inquiries and had burst out laughing while trying to explain it back to the Autobots. In the end, Chromia decided not to tell them it was her name they wore and a memo was circulated forbidding any Cybertronian symbol on humans without clearing it through NEST command.

_37. Do not hesitate to signal an emergency, even if you have caused it. Use the appropriate level of alarm and do not notify Prime by texting "how do we evacuate the base in a hurry?" _*Wheeljack, First Aid.

_41. Do not offer to assist in human maintenance activities including but not limited to trash removal, weed trimming, mowing the grass, or removing stains off the concrete floor or similar buy using live weapons fire. Also see rule # 42. _*Jolt, Arcee, Chromia, and Hound.

_42. Do not use trash, discarded computer equipment, or abandoned vehicles for target practice unless it is clearly marked as trash or discarded, especially if those items belong to the current government liaison. _*Ironhide, Skids, Mudflap, and Wheeljack.

Prowl scrolled further, then stopped on # 105. "This one needs updating. "_A Prime should not be unnecessarily risked." _Too vague. How about this.

_105. Field Commanders, especially a Prime, shall not unnecessarily endanger themselves or enter situations where they may be terminated or enter stasis lock. _

Roaring engines, squealing tires and human screams rang out. The office door swung back and forth from the force Prowl hit it with as he ran towards the commotion.

A breem later, Optimus Prime rapped gently on the door, pushing it open. "Prowl, are you busy?" Blinking, he noticed the active datapad and glanced at it. "This rule needs tweaking I believe." A few clicks of the keys and the rule retyped itself out.

_105. My Second in Command and Chief Security Officer should not nag, worry or stress over his Prime. He's a big bot who can take care of himself. _

"That should settle that." A distant crash and cursing sounded. "Time for me to go. What I don't see I don't have to get involved in."

Two breems after that, Elita 1 stepped through the open door, following the echo of her sparkmate's signal. "Prime, Prowl? Are you present?" She too saw the active datapad and read it. "Oh really? Hmm, needs a femme's touch." She typed eight words then left.

"I left the door open? Need to review my own security procedures." Prowl blinked, then read the new rule.

_105. My Second in Command and Chief Security Officer should not nag, worry or stress over his Prime. He's a big bot who can take care of himself. Or his sparkmate will kick both their mech afts. _


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks for the reviews and adding my stories to your favorites list! Another odd assortment of rules and situations that have come up. Anyone draw and is part of deviant art? Rule 25 mentions sketches, which I can't draw but would be cute. Only the first two. The others mentioned actually exist there already by those artist names.

My brain is fried from work today so these are a bit more basic. I'll be heading to bed early I'm so beat. And the rule with Hound and the girls was hard to write and keep the fun, clean effect of the rule going. And in NEST, the S stands for Supporters as in humans and T for Transformers. Sounds cooler than humans, squishes or fleshlings and mondo alien robots.

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_1. Do not hide, confiscate or remove human's coffee, soda pop, energy drinks, chocolate candy, donuts, sugar, or other preferred food items as a joke or in retaliation for a prank or perceived prank. They will not take it well. _

_2. Do not attempt to get humans to eat healthy. They are sentient enough to make their own dietary choices, however self-destructive. Refer to Rule # 1. You can report them, however, to the human Chief Medical officer via his email. _

_9. Do not "DARE" any human or Autobot to take any action that is unsafe, risky or hazardous to themselves or other personnel. _*Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Jazz, Bumblebee, Samuel Witwicky

_10. Do not use the excuse, but it was a dare! To explain behavior or damage, to a superior office and NEVER TO RATCHET or Mikeala Banes. They will inflict damage worse than the resulting injury of said dare. _*Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Jazz, Bumblebee, and any other mech in medbay.

_16. Do not use Cybertronian scanning technology for the personal use of humans unless first clearing it with the supporters chain of command, Captain Lennox and Epps. _

"I admit, this particular instance never crossed my processor. I can imagine requests for cheating, enemy detecting but never anything involving female humans and water.

Hound had returned from a scouting mission, relaying critical information on possible Decepticon movements while mud had literally dropped off his alt form. Pieces of branches, twigs and small rocks only added to the mess.

::Hound, please attend to the wash racks. I don't want the janitors complaining again:: Optimus Prime

::Worried they'll sling mud on our species personal hygiene habits?:: Hound.

:: Groan. Just get yer aft moving. And quit spending so much time with the humans. They're a bad influence:: Ironhide.

Hound laughed, rolling outside when he noticed several female human begin to follow him. They were carrying scrub brushes, buckets, polishing rags and dressed in shorts and tank tops. Four more females so attired stood around the outer rinse grid of the wash rack.

"Can I help you ladies?" he asked, as they surrounded his alt form.

"Only by holding still. We are going to wash you like you have never been washed."

"That is not, uh, necessary. I am fully capable…" he stopped as the tall buxom redhead leaned forward, placing a hand on his hood.

"Shh, we owe you. The water is warm, now hush sweetie." They laughed, and began spraying him with water. He closed his external links, determined to let nothing interrupt this moment. It was Epps who walked by, drooled for a minute, and then told the other Transformers.

::Hound, what is your status?:: Optimus Prime

::Hmmm, I'm fine. Getting the mud cleaned off:: Hound

::So I've been informed. And the reason there are human females only draped across you?:: Optimus Prime

::I, uh, helped them last week with a personal matter.:: His mental tone held a certain sheepishness.

:Helped how?:: Prowl ::

::How personal?:: Sideswipe

::The redheaded Captain found a clip of herself and several others going in and out of the main shower room. I used my scanning equipment to find the camera feed. Several of them in fact. I traced them back to a single source on base, and had to call the MP's. Those femmes were ready to tear him apart.::

::And?:: Prime prompted.

::I'll let them explain:: Hound

::Captain Jorgensen here sir. This is nothing except a simple thank you. We are putting on a show for the guys, that when they ask why, they have a vivid reminder of no sneaking in videos and how we girls remember things like that::

::Washing accomplishes that?:: Optimus Prime

:Dressed and moving like we are? Oh yah. They'll remember. Let us handle this our way ::

::As you wish, command clear:: Optimus Prime

That week, Hound got washed and polished so many times Sunstreaker was jealous of his paintjob. Hound confided to the others he felt like hiding rather than be the center of so much human attention. Captain Lennox finally had to order the girls to stop as they were interrupting base activity. And the fact his wife Sarah was due in that weekend for a visit.

_25. No visual media of our existence, without previous clearance, is allowed. Including photos, sketches, video imaging and more. _

Prowl turned his head, making sure his door was closed and secured, as per regulations. A signal from his right palm and a secret hatch of his desk slid open noiselessly. Several pieces of human artwork were slid out. He grinned, starting with his favorite.

Five cartoon panels, each stacked on top of each other. The first showed baby bot Megatron and Optimus like robots sitting in on the floor. Each held a rattle with an Autobot and Decepticon symbol. Second panel showed Megatron glaring as Optimus bot snuggled his blanket. Third panel showed Megatron reaching, red eyed, screaming "I want them all!" The fourth panel was a dust cloud showing a fight. The last panel had Prowl laughing. Megatron baby bot was tied up on his back with the Decepticon symbol wrapped around his limbs while Optimus bot snuggled his blanket. "Mine."

Blinking fluids from his optics, Prowl hid the sketch back, and then pulled out the next. "I still need to thank Bumblebee for explaining this one to me. I would never have gotten the joke without watching Pinky and the Brain cartoons."

A lab rat cage held two mini bots looking like Starscream and Megatron only they had ears, tails and pink noses. "What are we going to do tonight Lord Megatron?" Starscream asked. "What we do every night, try to take over the world" Megatron answered.

More sketches followed. Bumblebee as a sparkling signed by artist Middernacht. Optimus Prime as a moose signed by artist Folkeye. Various mechs as femmes. The Decepticon leader, the Fallen, face down and crushed with Optimus Prime standing over him yelling 'Get up!"

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Circuits flared when the emergency alarm sounded. In one quick motion the sketches were hid back in the niche and Prowl shot to his feet, running for the door. "This better not be a drill again."

_83. When a human runs up and says, "We have an emergency and need you" (even if you know it is a drill or non-emergency) Do NOT answer:_

_a. How is that my problem fleshling?_

_b. Scream, run in circles, and transform back and forth as though panicking. _

_c. Charge your weapons and point them at said human until they leave or faint. _

_d. Come back in fifteen minutes, I'm on break._

_e. Tell the mechs, emergencies are their problems. I'm a femme_.

_f. I got symbols all over me but 911 ain't one of them._

_g. If you need me, it's not an emergency but a disaster!_

_h. Call your President and Congress, they probably created this situation. _

_i. Yah, yah, I got that memo. Forwarded it to someone who cares._

_j. Now who died and where do we stuff the body this time?_

_k. Any other response not deemed appropriate by Cybertron command. _*Twins, Ironhide, Arcee, Chromia, Skids, Mudflap, Jazz, Hound, Bumblebee and the rest of you slackers.

Several breems later, Optimus nudged the office door open, careful not to damage with the prone Autobot form he was carrying in his arms.

::Are you sure Prowl is functional Ratchet?:: Optimus Prime

::It is a glitch in his logic processor. It temporarily overloads. He offlines, or faints as the humans put it. And this time it was your fault, not the twins. Lucky for you, the last memory chip fails when he offlines. Set him here. I'll bring him back online and within normal functioning parameters shortly.:: Ratchet

Prime's vents cycled, cooling his internal systems. "How was I to know he missed the briefing on where our funds came from? After all, the new liaison had started it with his screaming over the cost of a readiness drill that actually used the alarm and live weapons. He demanded how we could afford that and I explained it. They stole their technology from Megatron to fund Sector Seven and other operations. Only fair we use it now. Our tech, our sacrifices to protect this world."

Ratchet snorted. "It was you insisting on suing the patent office, the government, and calling on the President of the United States as a witness if any disputes over royalties came up that Prowl offlined over."

"I was not serious."

Prowl groaned as internal systems rebooted. The others left hurriedly, monitoring the room and their friend from a distance.

"Where was I?" he glanced down at the datapad, and then half remembered. "The rules, yes the rules."

_92. Do not abuse the use of drive thru windows. They are made for human convenience at coffee stands, fast food, banks, dry cleaners, and wedding chapels. Using holographic drivers to pull pranks and posting the result on the internet is absolutely forbidden. Please refer to previous rules regarding use of holographic drivers. _*You know who you are, plus the usual twins.

_122. Do not take offense when the humans get our battle cry wrong. Explain what it means without threatening undue harm, bodily injury or imminent death. _*Any mech or femme

Prowl rubbed his headplate, his processors feeling like something was missing. He shrugged, copying the human gesture as he remembered it. "Our cry has never been till all are out. Doesn't even sound like fill all up. And if they had listened, instead of charging forward while screaming it would not have sounded like till all are won or bill all won, or any other variation. If they would think about our past and…"

Beep beep beep

He glanced at his wrist monitor, seeing the recharge cycle warning. "Already? Have to ask Ratchet to recalibrate my systems…" Slipping into recharge, he slumped forwards, his head laying on his hands as his optics closed. Optimus walked in, shutting down the data pad then turned and patted Prowl's shoulder.

"Rest old friend. Rules and order are important but remember we are a family. Till all are one.


	7. Chapter 7

Another day, another warped sense of humor. Only a couple of rules. Already working on chapter 8. Hard to create the right mix of fun, rules and humor. Some pieces are too long to be all together or don't fit together. This one features a request for more Ultra Magnus and more Annabelle. My beta reader said she could tell I was tired and thought this one was different and more juvenile in tone. Lack of sleep and long day at work will do that. Let me know what you think.

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_31. Do not confuse the human liaison as to our identities, intents, or purposes. Do not discuss or mention anything related to our beliefs, history or battle plans. Refer the liaison to Optimus Prime or Captain Lennox._ *Ultra Magnus and any mech approached by said humans.

"Hey, you there!" the human shouted up at the Transformer. The mech looked away from the beautiful blue sparkling ocean down to the little man, clad in his polyester brown suit.

"Are you addressing me?" he asked.

"Yes. You're their leader right? Red and blue, big and tall. I've been trying to call you for over an hour!" He reached in his bag, waving a cell phone.

"And you are?" the mech asked.

"The new liaison. Your contact with the President and his commands. You will do as we say. No throwing me out of an airplane with a chute over Egypt. I'm too smart for that."

"I doubt that."

"You what?!" The man screeched.

"You want my brother, Optimus. The Prime. I'm Ultra Magnus. And our other brother, Megatron would throw you out of a plane. Or step on you. Then again brother Nightmag would have ignored you, not begin a femme. Had five femmes, twelve sparklings. Other brother Lightbar made Priest of the Temple Proper. No femmes for him. No humans either. You're too planet bound. Don't look up to the universe. The Allspark would have shown you. Or melted you. It did that to the unworthy. I was worthy. Didn't want the job of Prime. Too much loss and dealing with unqualified mechs telling me what to do. Too tempting to be like Megatron and crush what annoys me. Or ignore it. The Prime you are looking for is at NEST Central. That way," he pointed over his shoulder.

"Can you show me the way?" the human sputtered.

"I just did." Ultra Magnus answered, walking the opposite direction, keeping a careful watch to not endanger the man.

::Prime, new guy coming your way. Seems a bit odd:: Ultra Magnus commed on their internal communications.

::Odd how?:: Optimus Prime

::Had weird ideas about us. Babbling about brothers and the Allspark. Enjoy:: Ultra Magnus.

That night, he admitted to Optimus what he had said. They both laughed. The human barely mentioned the conversation but kept his distance from Magnus the few months he was there. Prime was stuck with him the whole time.

_51. No exceeding posted speed limits and use extreme caution around the supporters, their younglings and sparklings, especially Annabelle Lennox. _

Prowl frowned, "I wonder if I should create a rule section for that sparkling or rather, a survival guide section to keep Ironhide from offlining those Autobots who endanger her?" He grimaced, remembering the last incident.

Pentagon officials, NEST command and ranking Transformers were in meetings for hours, discussing locations for distant NEST relay sites.

::How long can this go for?:: Ratchet

:Depends:: Ironhide flexed his arms, the light reflecting off his black armour.

::On what?:: Ratchet

::If I can use my cannons:: Ironhide

::We do not hurt humans:: Optimus Prime. He had glanced over at his fellow mechs, blue optics narrowing then winking one. ::Though I'm open to any non-violent option at this point::

::Trigger the general alarm?:: Ratchet

::Did that last week. And you run off for medical needs, leaving early anyways:: Ironhide pointed a stubby digit for emphasis.

::Medical need indeed:: He snorted. ::My sanity.:: His red lights whirled once.

::Enough you two:: Optimus Prime admonished. :: Their main leader is speaking::

"Sorry about this," General McNair stated. "I have a Pentagon briefing with the President within the hour and need to end this meeting." A sigh of relief went around the room. The Transformers were the first to head outside. Optimus beat the others, as his long blue legs stretched further.

Ironhide continued past them, "I'm going to find Annabelle. She's probably in the remembrance garden. Likes the flowers." He headed for the East part of the base, scanning for a human child. His audio sensors barely detected their roaring engines before they slid into view. Red and yellow Lamborghinis shot by, looping out and around before sliding to a stop by the trees.

"You fraggers! Pit running slag heaps!"

"Language, Ironhide, Language. Swearing in front of sparklings, especially in front Annabelle is breaking Rule 53." Sideswipe said, rolling forward.

"She's not here! And you would have killed her racing around that way," Ironhide snarled.

"I disagree. See?" Sideswipe's tone was full of mirth.

He should have realized Sideswipe's windows were dark. And how he had raced behind his yellow twin, leaving room to maneuver instead of neck to neck as normal. But when the red driver door opened, Ironhide's mental processors slid to a complete and utter halt in shock. A very distinctive little shape sat in the driver's seat, undoing a safety harness before hopping out. He could only watch speechless as she stood there in a black racing jumpsuit, reaching up to remove her white helmet.

"Did you see me 'Hide? I went real fast!" Annabelle waved at her guardian.

"What…what…what…" he stuttered.

"I'm learning how to drive!"

'Drive me crazy.' He thought dazedly then asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yah, we went real fast and only slid once! Vroom vroom crunch! He he. But they were just old garbage cans. We been doing this all morning! We went off base, and on the freeway then cops chases us but we lost them. Then we went real fast and jumped in the air a couple of times. And now we're back. How come you couldn't come play with us? " Only the twins noticed the faintest specks of red beginning to show in the old warrior's eyes as she rattled on.

"I was busy in meetings with your dad. But why don't you go over to the hangar and tell your dad how much fun you've had please?" He asked, his tone flat and devoid of emotion.

"NO!" both twins yelled, transforming.

"I, uhm, we, yah we promised her a treat. You know, like ice cream." Sideswipe babbled, knowing once she left, they had to face him, alone.

"Treat huh?" the cannons began rolling, the glow at the ends increasing.

"A treat. For like surviving." Sunstreaker added with a shrug.

The cannons stopped, optics changing from blue to red narrowed, as the glow blazed into full power.

INTERNAL TWIN COMMUNICATION ESTABLISHED. PRIORITY LINK BOND.

::Nice going dim glow. Now he's going to offline us the second she leaves:: Sunstreaker

EMERGENCY FREQUENCY ACTVATED.

::Prime! Help!:: Sideswipe sent a data packet showing the situation.

::Stay there, we're coming:: Optimus Prime

::Oh, we'll be here. I don't know in how many pieces but we'll be here:: Sideswipe, as Annabelle began walking towards the hangar.

EMERGENCY MEDICAL LINK ACTIVATED

::How do I disable Ironhide's cannons?:: Optimus Prime

::Why? His core processors finally slip?:: Ratchet

::The twins were teaching Annabelle how to drive::Optimus Prime.

:: .#$Q#%:: Ratchet

EMERGECY ALL CALL, AUTOBOT COMMAND

::Autobots, converge on the East tarmac. Be prepared to engage and disable Ironhide without injury:: Optimus Prime

::To him or to us?:: Bumblebee

::And do not let the twins escape:: Optimus Prime. ::Captain Lennox and Sergeant Epps want to talk to them.::

Fifteen minutes later, Ironhide was pinned under Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus as Bumblebee and Brawn undid the cannon servos. It was Arcee who held Lennox down and Chromia held Epps. Annabelle laughed the whole time, happy to see all her friends playing together.


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks for the reviews, story alerts, and favorite story markers. And thanks for your suggestions. The Hound and Wheeljack with wildlife, Prime getting in trouble and Sarah Lennox is mixed in here. The Chuck Norris and other suggestions, plus some humdinger rib hurting originals are in progress for later chapters.

Somehow these things are taking on a life of their own. What started out a rule became a paragraph became its own fic under each rule. But everyone seems to like that so I'll keep creating them.

And I can post sections of the rules as the numbers fill in. Yes, I do have a pattern to their numbering, though in the beginning they were chosen at total random. Like playing the lottery. Do I have an 8, 15, 27, 46, and a 52? Onward and upward to fun.

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_6. Do not ever start a conversation, excuse or alibi with the following phrases when explain to Autobot Command or NEST Military officers._ *Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and anyone else in trouble.

_ a. He / She started it (while pointing at Twin, sparkmate or fellow Autobot.) _

_ b. I dare you to_

_ c. But it was just sitting there_

_ d. We were wondering if_

_ e. It sounded like a good idea_

_ f. You mean we had to ask first before_

_ g. It looked safe on the datapad_

_ h. How were we suppose to know it wouldn't_

_ i. It would have worked on Cybertron_

_ j. It's not our fault that_

_ k. There's a rule on this already? Bummer._

_19. Do not study or experiment with indigenous wildlife without appropriate safety precautions_. *Hound and Wheeljack.

"I should have seen this one coming." Prowl reasoned. "Earth has thousands of species, unlike anything we have ever encountered on other world. Scouts are naturally curious as are scientists. They know never to harm living things or interfere with existing civilizations. And those two have never been trouble when together."

Hound, in his army jeep alt form, lead up the rocky mountain road. His green armor plating was nearly invisible under a tan layer of dust. The Autobot trailing behind was completely covered, obscuring his white race car design.

::Are you sure the view (bounce) is worth this? I'm never (dip) going to get (rattle rattle) this dust out of my servos:: Wheeljack

:: Relax Jack. I'll ask the girls to wash you. Found two more video relays this week. And we're almost there.:: Hound

::Oh pit. All these (ouch) bumps (ugh) are tearing my suspension. (heave) And Ratchet refused to repair me (crunch) one more time (jar) until after twenty orns have passed:: Wheeljack

::Made it:: Hound announced, sliding around a corner. He transformed, walking forward, shading his optics with one hand. A sputter and cough followed by a transformation sound heralded Wheeljack's arrival.

"Wow, you can seen forever up here." Wheeljack admitted, looking out over the panoramic view. The valley spread out before them, forests descending down into grassy meadows. The river below sparkled in the bright sunlight, shimmering in its purity. An eagle screamed overhead. Both mechs looked at each other, grinning, then followed its flight.

"Look at that wing spread," Hound muttered, taking a step forward.

"Incredible organic creature. No engines, no powered internals and it soars like a seeker." He took a step forward, coming alongside Hound. Neither scanned where they were standing. Their attention was focused upward and not on the crumbling edge. The rapidly crumbling edge.

"Ready to see more?" Hound asked as a fissure began behind their feet and began spreading left and right. Wheeljack nodded, his head extensions flashing with excitement. He started to answer when a distinct crack sounded. Both glanced down, optics going wide as the cliff crumbled away.

AAAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Hound desperately tried to tuck and roll as he bounced down the mountain side, crashing through trees like a giant bowling ball. Wheeljack landed on his back, arms flailing desperately to grab anything as he slid, ripping trees out by the roots. Neither saw the rocky outcropping until they shot over it and into the air.

AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!

The mountainside shook with their impacts. Wheeljack opened his optics as systems began rebooting. Dozens of error messages scrolled by his central processor, none were critical damage and he raised his head. "Raised?" he realized, climbing out of a Wheeljack shaped hole. "Hound, you there?" He looked right then scrambled forward, seeing his friend face down in the river. A quick grab and he heaved him out and onto his side. Blue optics looked up at him. "You okay, buddy?"

"Yah. Found a fish! Want to see?" Hound quipped. "Is your arm supposed to curve like that?"

"No," Wheeljack admitted, holding the limb that now had three bends in it. "And you had two doors and a windshield when we started. Missing them?"

"Hmm, now that you mention it, they are missing. Ratchet is not going to like this is he?"

"I'm not liking it Hound, let's go. We'll have to walk out until we find a road."

Four hours later, they both pulled up to the local ranger station, honking their horns until the ranger and his assistant came out. Two poachers were tied and bound inside of Hound. The crumpled remains of their rifles were ejected from Wheeljack's trunk. The holographic drivers waved, then dumped the poachers out. The Transformers raced away in their banged up alt forms, laughing.

::You know, it would have been cooler to have them tied onto my hood. Too bad it's embedded up in the mountain side somewhere:: Hound.

_21. Do not let humans use recordings to make ringtones, wav files, voice clips or songs of us or supporters. _

"What are you doing Epps? That is the fortieth something melody you have tried. Pick something already. It's a ringtone, not a battle plan." Captain Lennox complained, looking up from his pile of reports.

"Actually," Epps leaned forward and dropped to a whisper, "I got good recordings to make my own. Listen." He flipped out a CD disk and placed it into his laptop and began typing. Will's phone beeped, showing incoming filed accepted. "Try them."

Will hesitated then began keying his phone options, trying them one by one.

"I can smell you boy!" Megatron.

"Taking the children was a bad idea." Optimus Prime.

"These things just don't die."

Lennox jerked, "That's my voice. I was talking about the Decepticons in the battle two years ago. You got any others of me?"

"We got a whole lot of battle coming our way."

"Not inside the plane you dumb #$%!"

"Oh, I love that one! I'm keeping it." Will chortled. "Galloway's face as he panicked, pulling that chute was priceless. And I have work to do if you don't mind."

"I don't mind a bit." Epps retorted.

Twenty minutes later, Will's watch chimed, reminding him to call his wife Sarah. Driving down the freeway, heading for the base, her cellphone began playing. "Not inside the plane you dumb #$%!" Not inside the plane you dumb #$%!"

"Hi daddy."

"Hi sweetie. Mommy there?"

"Will Jennings Lennox what type of ringtone is that! You better have an explanation ready. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. We're just pulling up to the gates now." And she hung up the phone.

Epps winced, overhearing the whole thing. "Sorry dude. You better go find Optimus. No one messes with him."

"My wife would."

_23. Do not expect to get out of trouble using your age, war status or rank as a prerogative with command, supporter or Transformer or their sparkmate and wife, including a Prime. _

Prowl's systems flushed hot as he chortled. "Captain Lennox stated once that the females of his species could be threatening and commanding but I never thought to see a Prime bow before one. Too bad all the security tapes had to be erased from that afternoon."

Optimus Prime stretched his arms overhead, unlinking a shoulder gear, stiff from another long meeting with human commanders. Ultra Magnus had snuck up behind him, calculating the exact moment to grab and pin him in a headlock. It had worked for all of a tenth of a breem. Optimus had fought for his life against Decepticons more than he would ever admit to Magnus. Red arms straining, he snapped the power cables in his arms, flipping his brother's red and blue form through the air and into the concrete. He hit, tucked and rolled, coming up into a ready stance when he noticed Optimus blue optics flared as widely as they could mechanically go.

"What?"

Optimus pointed at the flattened shape of a blue earth vehicle pushed into the pavement and smirked. "You're bad. It was empty." He reassured. "But it belongs to the sparkmate of Captain Lennox. She will be upset."

"I'll replace it. NEST has the funds. How bad can dealing with a human be?" he stated, brushing off concrete chunks.

An hour later, the planes landed, unloading hot and tired human support members. Captain Lennox and Sergeant Epps entered the hangar and stopped. Optimus Prime, in his flame semi alt form was parked in the far right corner, nose in. Ultra Magnus, in his car carrier alt form was parked in the opposite corner, also front bumper facing the wall. Sarah Lennox sat in a chair in the middle, watching her daughter playing with blocks.

"Sarah, what's going on?" her husband asked.

"Quiet time." She said, gesturing to the mechs behind her.

"They were bad and squished mommy's car." Annabelle said, jumping up to run and hug her dad. "They yelled at mommy too. But she yelled back and now it's time out."

The men exchanged a startled look then burst out laughing. The security tapes were erased and Sarah never would tell why or how but the result was the same. Two very sheepish mechs apologized and replaced her car, while using "inside voice" volume levels.


	9. Chapter 9

Wow! Chapter 9 already. Never thought the rules would get this far. (Ignores Prowl's snort of disbelief) Thanks for reviews and suggestions. The spider request in is here though in truth I had an idea already and had been refining it all week. I could do more Twins; either set, but didn't want to become too obsessive about them. Their adventures and I could fill a book by themselves. And these fics under the rules are getting longer and more complicated.

I put up a poll in my profile. You can vote for two entries, yes two, out of the entire list of who you want stories on. If there are names together, they are NOT a pairing. If I listed each name the list would be too long. So make your wishes known and I will try to do what I can. Sometimes inspiration just hits and I go with it, no idea who is the next victim, ere rule maker. On to the madness.

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_20. Do not create automated drones in shapes that scare, intimidate or panic humans or Autobots. _*Wheeljack, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.

Optimus Prime checked his internal schedule for the next appointment, grumbling about another upcoming budget meeting that evening in the gym next to Wheeljack's lab. Crossing the tarmac in bi- pedal mode, his programming scanned every human face, matching it to their name, status and pertinent information. "A good commander knows who serves under him. No one is dismissed based on size, experience or strength."

Some NEST members, waved, nodded or gave a thumbs up. Others ignored him, intent on their duties, dismissing the vibrations his steps caused. It was the few who looked fearful or backed up that was disturbing. "All our sacrifices, our pain and they still don't understand us."

The sound of roaring engines increased, distinct with the hum of a system not made on earth. Ironhide's black GMC top kick alt form slid into view, flying across the straight away. Right behind, Ratchet in his yellow and green rescue alt form followed with his emergency lights blazing. They both shot by and Prime blinked. Attached to Ratchet's bumper were shoes and tin cans and the words "Just married" spray painted in white across his back hatch.

"If and when he catches Ironhide, he'll know exactly what is damaged and how it was done. And speaking of damage, onto Wheeljack's lab. " Thunder rolled overhead, warning of the approaching storm. "Love the weather on this planet. There was no rain, no storms on Cybertron."

The red and blue mech entered the building, ignoring all the warning signs printed in several languages. An electrical lock read his profile and opened the double barred metal doors. Continuing down the hallway, his audio sensors detected the barest of clicking sounds. Alert, he spun around and froze, nearly having a spark attack.

Descending from the ceiling was a thing out of his youngling horrors. His optics flashed pure white in terror as his memories flashed back to Cybertron. Before being Prime, before Optimus the warrior and Autobot commander, there had been Orion Pax, son of Alpha Trion. Serious, he had upheld his duties and training until the day his brother Megatron had dared him to enter the lowest tunnels under the Allspark Temple. Silently they had crept through the dimly lit areas, descending lower and lower until that sound. A scuttling mechanical sound. Megatron had panicked, racing back for the surface.

"Mags wait! There is nothing down here." Orion yelled. And had turned, face to face with a black tunnel repair drone. Multi limbed and bulbous, it spun cables to reinforce and support the metal structures that supported the city proper above. It had rotated its multi faced purple optics once at him before a flash of thrown silver blanked his processors.

Optimus Prime the aged warrior snapped back to reality in the hallway before Wheeljack's lab. Silently, all his weapons popped out of subspace as his battle systems engaged. Crouching down slightly, he began reaching for the rifle on his back. 'Too dangerous to use my missiles, lasers or concussion weapons in these tight quarters.' His battle mask slid into place.

The giant spider clicked its jaws, watching him with its red eyes when it rang like a phone. Eyes changing to blue, it chirped at him in Sideswipe's voice. "Heya Prime. Neat security system huh? Come on ahead." The spider waved its front feet, then ascended back silently into the ceiling.

"What…it…was…oh." Prime stuttered, falling to one knee in relief. "I can't believe I fell for that." A hissing sound forewarned him of the lab door opening and he jumped back to his feet.

"Prime? Uh, why are all your weapons out and your mask on?" Wheeljack asked.

"Checking their ready status. No humans to see. And I wanted you to upgrade the catch on my rifle. Perhaps have it swing forward so I don't reach back as far?" Prime covered, sliding his battle mask back hidden.

"Sure, though that's not come up before. Come on in," He gestured into his lab.

Half a joor later, Prime mentioned the new security system.

"The spider? It was the twin's idea. Kind of reminds me of the old tunnel repair drones. Perfect to warn off humans and it is unable to pass the hallway doors. Magnetic pulse wave keeps it in." Wheeljack stated, intent on the hydraulic assembly in his hands, not noticing the expression on his commander's face.

That night, the budget meeting had been well underway when the storm knocked out base power. Backup generators kicked on critical systems. The Autobots had checked in with each other over the internal comms. The humans moved around nervously, uneasy in the dimness of the emergency lights. Then the gym doors opened and everyone froze as two black arms then a round head with blue eyes peered in, followed by more jointed legs. "Wheeljack?"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

Humans panicked, the Autobots dropped their weapons into place and fired before Optimus could override them, too startled to react himself. Wheeljack later complained there weren't enough pieces to reconstruct it; Sunstreaker demanded a new one use his voice and Prime vetoed them all, using the human's fear as the reason. Prowl had merely nodded, working on the wording of the rule as the base Doctor complained about upset soldiers while the maintenance chief began the task of repairing the entire west wall of the gym.

_27. Do not use live weapons fire around humans without considering their fragile nature and inadequate building structures. _

_28. Do not use Cybertronian technology to create drones for any purpose not expressly approved by command. _

Sergeant Epps opened the door, peering around cautiously before entering the Captain's office.

"Come on in, no drones here." Will Lennox stated, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk. "Working on reports."

"Man, I thought that giant spider last month was bad. These mini drones are worse. I can't believe those joker twins pulled this the week Optimus and the others are in DC with the Joint Chiefs." Epps complained, flopping down.

"Quit whining. You're a solider now. And the mailbox that transformed into R2D2 from star wars every time someone threw a letter in, that was wicked." Lennox said, sorting more files.

"Laugh now solider boy. What about the alarm clock that when you hit snooze three times transformed with cannons, blew away the bed posts, dropping the bed to the floor as it rolls away screaming 'Oops, I did it again!' in that girl's voice?" he waved his arms around in exasperation.

"The treadmill worked though. Monitored your heart rate and transformed into a drone to chase you around the gym if your heart rate was too low." He shrugged. "Not my problem we have slackers on base." Two files into the out box, five into the 'to do' box.

"The microwave that cooked popcorn with a flame thrower? The fire extinguisher that yelled 'Fire!' anytime a smoker moved too close to the medical wing?"

"Their problem. It's off limits for safety. Oxygen, flame equals boom!" Lennox gestured up and out as though an explosion occurred and spread outward.

"Ha, you would like that one. How about Sarah trying to get on base and forgetting her pass? She's arguing with the guard when the guard booth transformed, took the barrier bar and beat the hood of the car in?" Epps pointed out.

"She got another new car. Ironhide got his target practice. Annabelle was with me. Minor problem." Lennox covered, throwing one file into the trash bin. "Want coffee?"

"Man, you would mention that! And you missed it! Even worse," Epps moaned, hiding his face in his hands. "Coffee pot that transforms into drone that fills your cup by, what's the word, lubricating into it?! That image haunted me for a week! And no, I don't want coffee! Had to switch to soda for the caffeine headaches. "

The general alarm sounded, sending both men racing for the main hangar. The newly arrived liaison passed them, ignoring their yells and not about to get on a plane with NEST members. "I need to make nine copies of these new forms. Create some order around here."

Returning from a false alarm, the men found him cowering in the corner, whimpering "They're all alive, they're all alive," over and over. His tie had staples all over it, copier toner was smeared up both arms as though someone or something had grabbed him, one shoe was missing and pieces of the report were scattered everywhere in the room.

"I'll call the base doctor. You lock the room until we can deactivate them." Lennox ordered, gently lifting the man to his feet and out the door.

_29. A Government Liaison is not to be harassed, threatened, or targeted for pranks in any way._

_30. Do not lose, misfile or fail to translate into English any report, form or other information requests by a government official including liaisons. If needing assistance, contact myself (Prowl) or Optimus Prime._

_32. Do not use the following excuses to explain why a report, form or other request was not completed in a timely and complete manner:_

_a. I didn't know the deadline was that close. _

_b. I seem to be missing the processors for that_

_c. That event / request is not in my memory banks_

_d. Oh, I was suppose to do it? I thought you were just mentioning it_

_e. I didn't volunteer for that_

_f. I'm waiting on more data_

_g. I'm a solider not a Prime_

_h. I was guarding Sam and Mikeala that week _

_i. It's a human problem. Why bother me with it?_

_j. We're in this together and I'm waiting on their parts_

_k. Dang computer froze again_

_l. High speed was down, dial-up took too long_

_m. It's back on Cybertron_

_n. Decepticons blew it up_


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Notes / Clarifications: On Optimus Prime and the spider last chapter, I had a few issues with the original idea. Optimus would not be scared of a tiny earth object he could tap with one finger and squish. So I made the spider really big. Still not in character since he's fought Megatron, traveled through space on a comet that slammed in crash landing, and carries swords, a super rifle and more. Then I realized most adults will tell a story that begins it scares me because when I was a kid this and that happened. Bingo! Childhood trauma. So Optimus as Orion Pax / youngling had an encounter with a scary situation and spider like robot that carries forward into earth and a robot spider. Now a Prime, he is not going to admit he's scared of them to his fellow Autobots or the human soldiers, called supporters.

As to the sketches, the baby bot Megatron and Prime fighting over a blanket needs to be drawn. So is Pinky and Brain Starscream and Megatron. That needs to be drawn. And the video tape showing Sarah Lennox timing out Prime and Magnus into corners was _officially_ erased. Rumor has it a copy exists with Sarah. Ironhide is tracking that down for me. Let you know if I find it. Probably be its own fic later.

I spent the weekend with family on vacation. Hence, no posts until now. And per poll results and reader reviews, more twin humor and things blowing up. And I am a single femme, who does NOT play poker so here is my best attempt at it. Onward to merriment and wonderful craziness.

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Optimus glanced down at his second in command and resisted the urge to throttle the mech with his blue armored hands. "I know I am late in reports but waiting outside my office when you could have commed me over internal channels was not necessary."

"I believe communications have been compromised since our encounter in Egypt with the Decepticons. And reports, though bothersome, are necessary. They tell me where I need to worry." Prowl answered, following his leader into the hangar space. He shifted his wing extensions up; fitting through the doorway then relaxed them back into their normal vee pattern.

"Hakuna Mata." Prime quoted, extending a cable from his wrist into the nearest unused datapad. Blue optics dimmed as the files transferred themselves into the neat order of official reports. With a bell sound, the transfer completed and he held the datapad out as his cable connection retracted.

"Ha what? Never mind. Must be a human concept." Satisfied, Prowl added it to the pile he was already carrying in his hands and nodded. "Thanks Prime." He turned to go.

"You could call me Optimus. When we're not on the battlefield or at command. Even the humans do."

"The humans call us things I would never repeat and respect is earned. You're the last Prime. My boss." He hesitated, his white and black form still. "I remember Rule 105. I should not nag, stress or worry about you. Very well, then. Optimus. I am returning to my office should you need me. I have rules to update. Fragging twins again."

_34. Do not encourage, participate in or teach gambling activities for human supporters or Autobots._ *Hound, Ironhide, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Bumblebee, Arcee and Perceptor.

Sergeant Epps had started that adventure off with a single comment. The NEST members had been talking about normal everyday stuff when Ironhide had rolled up, transformed and joined the other Autobots by the waiting cargo plane transport.

"I would love to see what's under their alt form. When it's not damaged or been blown away in a fight that is. The protoform basic that is really them." Epps said.

"Why not ask?" Captain Lennox countered.

"I did. Ratchet said it was his job to know not ours. I didn't want to ask anyone directly. Anyway I phrased it, I don't know, it sounded…" he trailed off.

"Sounded too much like looking up their skirts?"

"Oh! That is so not a mental image! My brain, ow, that hurts man." He held his head, closing his eyes as his officer laughed.

"Why not play strip poker with them? Sam taught Bumblebee card games and they have internet access. All of them play games. Ask them. I doubt they care about removing armor."

"But you only play strip poker with women dude. You know that. Or should from your bachelor days. You play to see their bodies. I can't play with other guys. It's just too, you know, weird. And who would want to see my black butt?" Epps bemoaned.

"Then take only one guy. Like the doctor or a weapons tech. They don't care what you look like as long as you're healthy or armed and might give insight on the Transformer forms. A comparison study. And win, how hard is that? No lose no clothes off." Lennox shrugged, intent on the equipment loading and keeping the time schedule for the plane departing.

"I just might do that Captain." Epps had nodded thoughtfully, and then walked up the ramp, hoisting his rifle and parachute over his shoulder.

That night, a group of humans and Transformers met for a series of poker games. Four teams with two players each. One team of humans, Epps and the NEST weapons expert; one team of mixed, the NEST doctor and Jolt; Sunstreaker and Sideswipe; then Bumblebee and Ironhide. It was the twins that figured out to cheat. They lost a few hands and stripped off some weapons and armor, grumbling externally while talking over their twin bond.

::Flip the cards, replace the right ones a few times for 'Hide and Bee:: Sideswipe

::Already on it bro':: Sunstreaker

::The humans and Jolt are unlucky enough without our help:: Sideswipe

Hours later, the floor was scattered with discarded clothes, alt form armor and weaponry. That was when Ratchet walked in.

"Sorry to interrupt. Jolt, but your overdue…holy Primus! What on Cybertron is going on here ?!!" He had yelled, skidding to a stop, one foot still raised in shock and blinking his optics rapidly.

"Interspecies playing?" Jolt murmured, looking and feeling uncovered.

"You're playing. We're serious." Sideswipe quipped as his yellow twin Sunstreaker waved his cards at Ratchet.

"Bad to the bone. Nah nah nah." Bumblebee played music on his radio.

An automated bolt driver and welding laser popped out of Ratchet's forearms as his optics narrowed. "I'll play with you."

"Run for you sparks!" Ironhide yelled.

Down the hallway, Optimus was bent over a weapons schematic when the sounds began. Frowning, he swiveled around, interlinking into all the alarms and battle displays. Not one alert showed. "Now what is," he stopped as Bumblebee, in his protoform from the neck down ran by the office door, carrying two humans who were wearing nothing but shorts.

EMERGENCY COMMAND FREQUENCY INTERLINK ACTIVATED

::Prime, help! He's going to weld us together!:: Sunstreaker

::What did you do to Ironhide now?:: Optimus tried an obvious guess.

::No, Ratchet! He's going to weld me to Ironhide and Sideswipe to Bumblebee! Help us!:: Sunstreaker.

The big mech rubbed his head plates with his hand, copying a human gesture of exasperation before getting up and down the hallway towards the distress signals. "And I thought protecting the lives of my mechs from Decepticons in battle would be my biggest concern."

_36. Do not test possible Decepticon weaponry or explosives devices by attempting to activate them. Do not dispose of them in an unsafe manner on NEST or human areas. _*Wheeljack, Ultra Magnus and other mech or femme Primus blessed enough to survive this event.

_38. Medical personnel are not bound to or under the command of government liaison in regards to repairs and necessary upgrades as dictated by budget concerns. _*Ratchet, Red Alert, and Hoist

Ratchet and the new human liaison were practically snarling at each other_. _This one, the eighth replacement since Liaison Galloway, stood on the main hangar walkway, gripping the side bars tightly in his fists. "Your repairs are too costly! Raw metal I understand. Welding equipment I understand but not all these requests!" he gestured at the pile of forms to his left on the computer console.

"We are sophisticated living beings, not cheap, assembly line toys! You build with inferior materials while we are combat ready for thousands of years! Aluminum and ordinary steel is paper light compared to our metals. We ground negative and carry plasma weapons. Each mech is a different size and specialist. Parts are not one size fits all!" The Autobot chief medic stated.

"Power lines, chip grids, and hose assemblies can be modified. Use duct tape!" The human ordered then began backing up as the blue optics before him turned red. Optimus grabbed his medic in a bear hug as Ironhide reached for his neck plating and triggered a force offlining.

"This is not over," Optimus warned the human, before picking up and carrying Ratchet out. He stepped over the human's car, parked in the middle of the approach apron without regard to designated areas or marked lines. A fleeting temptation to crush the silver Mercedes flashed across his processors but he refrained. Ironhide remained uncharacteristically quiet the entire way.

"Ratchet would never have hurt him." Ironhide said, once they reached the medbay.

"I know." Optimus laid the medic on the recharge berth.

"I need him to fix my cannons." Ironhide commented, looking down at the prone figure of his teammate. "He's the only one who knows your wiring around the matrix."

"Relax, old friend." Optimus turned and faced the dark mech. "I won't offline him permanently. I know, my rule on not hurting humans but this does not qualify. It is the disregard of life that the rule is based on. The wrongness of the difference of our power and experience. We don't _need _to hurt them, if we are thinking, to defend ourselves. Ratchet's primary concern is life itself." Prime tapped his headpiece, sending out a private signal.

::Red Alert, you are needed in medbay. Medical situation:: Prime called the apprentice medic.

::I'm kind of busy right now working with Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus. Working on that possible Decepticon bomb the humans found. Can Ratchet handle it?:: Red Alert

::Ratchet is the medical situation:: Prime

::Coming:: Red Alert ::What happened?::

::Forced offlining. The human liaison triggered it:: Prime

::You're not?:: Red Alert

::Never. Temper, nothing more. Need you to online him. The medical sensors are too critical to do a mass reboot on. Ironhide will assist as needed:: Prime responded, feeling uneasy in his programming. He walked back to main staging hangar, pondering if the question had been the lack of time Red Alert had spent with the Autobot team or the perception that he was too much like his brother Megatron. Did they fear he would truly attack or offline his own without justifiable cause? Did he appear that serious and uncaring?

In the adjacent lab building, Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus continued their examination of the square device. Dull grey, marked with a purple Decepticon symbol, it resembled an ordinary metal shipping container. A magnetic field blocked all attempts to scan its contents.

"I find no access, no trigger, nothing." Magnus commented, running his scans up the side of it.

"It's a Decepticon anti seeker explosive containment device all right." Wheeljack stated. "But it does appear to be a dud." The scientist's side bars flashed green mixed with blue. His battle mask remained in place as always. "If it was charged, we would know it. Hold on," an access panel opened, and he began to work with settings.

The Decepticon signal blazed purple as the sound started. Tick tick tick.

"Know it was active like that?" Magnus asked.

"Oh slag." Wheeljack answered, his side bars flashing yellow.

Outside the lab, humans jumped as the outer doors were flung open, crashing into the walls. "Throw it!" Wheeljack pointed, moving aside as Ultra Magnus's red and white shape ran out the doors, carrying a metal grey box. He balanced it in one hand then threw it up and over the nearest buildings, angling for the beach shore.

"Falling too fast," Wheeljack muttered, projecting its landing. Seconds later, a massive explosion rocked the entire area. Everyone ran towards the blast point, stopping in awe at the crater and burned out metal frame in the center.

::Was that one of us?:: Ultra Magnus

::No, human car:: Hound said, looking down into the hole. Ratchet, Ironhide and Red Alert joined the gathering crowd.

"My car!" the liaison cried. "You did that on purpose! Now what am I suppose to drive?" He shouted up at the gathered Autobots. Ratchet kneeled down, then gestured for the man to move closer.

"You want it fixed?" He asked. "Use duct tape."

In the end, the liaison quit and sent a bill for the value of the Mercedes. When the response arrived back it contained three pieces of paper. A fine by base security for being a in a clearly posted tow away zone, cost three hundred and three dollars, claim for replacement DENIED, due to own negligence.

A bill from Autobot Command for forty thousand dollars. If the car had not been there, they could have simply filled the hole and paved it over. Environmental laws required the removal and discarding of the car and all its parts to a recycling yard as well as EPA certification the land was clean and restored.

And a bill from Ratchet for personnel time and expense, for twelve thousand dollars, to remove all the pieces of the car least unnecessary damage and expense occur from scattered shrapnel to Autobot tires.


	11. Chapter 11

Thanks to all the wonderful reviewers. Woot! More sections as Prowl completes them. Or rather things go wrong and the rules are needed. Like not letting junior medics try to switch your emotional processing to fix a logic glitch. Small problem there.

The last chapter came across a little wrong. I never meant it to be dirty so much as one of those "weird surreal what the heck was that I want to forgot I saw that moment" that happens unexpectedly. My fics _should_ be smut / slash free. I try for creative, unusual, more sophisticated humor that is less obvious. Can't win them all. These rules and stories took a bit longer to work out. Thanks for your patience. Please let me know what you think! Outward and onward.

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In his office on the NEST base at Diego Garcia, Prowl expelled air noisily through his vents, echoing the sound of a human sigh. "Another bad habit acquired from the humans," he thought sourly. "Thousands upon thousands of years of endless, unchanging war, only the battle fronts relocating and in less than three human years and our entire way of life is shifting from personal mannerisms to short lived humans becoming our team members." His message comm beeped, noting two more Pentagon debriefs were being added for review.

"More weapons discussions? Primus! Even Decepticons don't care that much about weapons. We simply make them and try them. If they work the enemy is gone and you keep that weapon, then make more. If not, you go, bad weapon design goes too. You don't fragging need months of wrangling over where it will be built, who will build it, and how much you can contract bill for each little part. It's a wonder these humans even made it to their moon let alone out of their dark ages." His internal comm activated.

::Ratchet to Prowl. Are you busy?:: Ratchet

::I'm always busy. What do you want?:: Prowl said. His abrupt manner was meant with silence for a quarter of a breem.

::Following up on your exam this morning with Red Alert. Did he change anything in your central processors by chance?:: Ratchet

"A few settings. You were busy off base. Not like the human doctors can be trusted to fix us. He thinks he fixed my logic glitch:: Prowl

::$%#&*:: Ratchet swore. ::He mentioned that to me last orn. He switched your attitude compensator with your logic circuit sub frame routine on the forty-ninth level. I told him it wouldn't...the twins are in the brig, no one has broken any rules and you are current on paperwork. How do you feel?:: Ratchet.

::With my modular extensions, or hands as the humans call them. Go away, I'm busy:: He snarled, cutting the connection.

SIGNAL CONNECTIONS TERMINATED –LOCKOUT ENGAGED

Prowl grinned, "No interruptions. I've got work to do." His energon level warning triggered. "Now? I was on a roll." He ignored the falling meter, working for half a joor. Then grumbling, he left his office and headed for the other side of the base. Energon was a controlled substance, the extensive damage it causes to human skin being first and foremost. It was for security reasons that it was sealed in lockers behind the med bay facility. Intent on getting there and back quickly, he never noticed the other Autobots watching him.

"Remember, subdue quickly and without injury." Optimus ordered. "Ratchet can reset him with a single connection. No alerting the humans to his condition. This is just a security drill as far as they are concerned."

Two very delighted twins and a smirking Ironhide gave the humans thumbs up gesture. They began creeping forward as Optimus wondered how much Primus had a sense of humor. It was to help Prowl the twins had been released from the brig and Ironhide removed off of his restrictions as well. Now they were being ordered by a Prime to take their security officer down.

"Please let this work," Optimus muttered then winced as Prowl turned and saw them, transforming into his military police alt mode and speeding across the flat area, through the nearby fence and out into the target range. Transforming red and yellow Lamborghinis followed by a black GMC top kick went into pursuit. Ratchet shook his head and headed for med bay.

::If you can drive, head to med bay when done. If not, call for a tow in. I'll have the tools ready:: Ratchet

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_39. Do not lie, cheat or add to mileage reimbursement forms turned in. All data is verifiable upon request by command officers, Optimus Prime or Ratchet. _*Do I really need to list names?

Inside the main hangar, the designated spot of government liaison was again filled. No matter how many left, another human male in a brown suit appeared on base, each resolved to put things in order. This one was named Fred and was trying to comprehend why giant alien robots were handing in reimbursement forms.

"What do you want with the money? You already get the royalties from all the technology we reverse engineered, developed, marketed and sold from NBE 1, aka Megatron," The liaison stated.

"Technology we Cybertron residents created, developed and used when your civilization was in mud huts trying to rub sticks together for fire." Optimus said, his words a little fuzzy from behind his battle mask. The liaison was too new to know what the mask should have signified. "It was your predecessor that required forms to be filled out, including mileage for required activities. And a formal complaint was filed on the rather expensive use of aircraft in uncertain economic times." He carefully placed several human size mileage forms next to the man then gestured for his mechs to do the same.

" We drive more often and save on human airline fuel." Ironhide added, adding his forms on top. His cannons were quiet yet the man backed to the other side of the bridge railing.

Ratchet placed his pile next. "Be glad we're not billing you for energon use."

"You still haven't told me what you are doing with the reimbursement money!" the man insisted, walking back towards the growing pile.

"We have human friends. They have birthdays and celebrate calendar holidays." Optimus explained, keeping a careful eye on his mechs. He had explained what they were to do but any smile might give away the whole thing. Hence, his battle mask.

"We buy them presents, it is your tradition after all." Kup added, new to the base but deciding he liked earth already. "Reminds me of traditions on half a dozen worlds." The ancient blue mech rubbed his chin, lost in memory.

"Current claims equal almost half a million dollars!" the human interrupted.

"Friendsarefriendsnomatterwhatwe getthemandtheyareworthanythingwespend." A blue shape raced up, slowed long enough to drop a form without scattering the pile, stepped back then raced out again.

"Slow down Blurr!" Kup yelled, walking out after his teammate. "You're scaring the natives. Remind me of the time on Ester four…"

"Friends. Me Gridlock like." A very tall and large red and gold mech stomped up, as the human shrieked and curled into a little ball on the walkway. Grimlock's claw hand released his form, the numbers written in very bright crayon. His focus was on hearing Kup's war story, ignoring the human who slowly uncurled and stared at his retreating shape.

"Very good friends." Optimus added, his battle mask hiding his smirk. "I trust these will be handled in a timely manner per regulations."

::And we thought you had no sense of humor:: Hot Rod

::You have no idea:: Optimus Prime ::I will return shortly. Have a task to complete. See there are no problems::

Hot Rod nodded, unsure of why he was being handed command but determined not to fail.

That night the liaison juggled boxes of papers as he returned to his car. He stopped suddenly, blinking at his Volkswagen. The metallic blue paint job was gone. It was bright white with black numbers painted on the hood. "My car," he whimpered. "I parked it in my assigned spot. What…who..why? And why that?"

Everyone chuckled though most had no idea on the movie reference. Optimus tried confessing to the prank. Prowl, Lennox and Epps thought he was covering for the twins; Ratchet had ignored the comment, scanning him for programming errors of misplaced blame; Ironhide had laughed believing it was Bumblebee; and the liaison had nearly cried, believing the alien leader was trying to show his caring for the man by offering to fix his car.

_40. Do not take any alt form that is a known earth vehicle including but not limited to:_

_a. Black car with oscillating red light sensor in the front known as Kitt, the 1984 Pontiac Trans Am Firebird or the 2009 Ford Shelby GT500KR Mustang versions._

_b. 1980's GMC Vandura Black and grey van with red stripes up side, the A-team._

_c. 1966 Chevrolet Sport van 108, Green with mystery machine graphics, Scooby Doo._

_d. 1963 White Volkswagen with number 8 graphics, Herbie the love bug._

_e. A long black car with extended nose and rocket jet on the back, Batmobile_

_f. 1969 Dodge Charger, orange with black 01 painted on both doors, General Lee, Dukes of Hazzard._

_g. Silver DeLorean DMC-12, 16-port twin exhaust boxes, flux capacitor, Back To the Future_

_h. 1974 Ford Grand Torino Red with white stripes at doors and up to back window, Starsky and Hutch_

_i. 1959 Cadillac ambulance, white with a green ghost graphics, the Ghostbusters Ecto-1._

_j. 1976 AMC Pacer, blue with mini flames behind front wheels, Wayne's World_

_k. Any other vehicle descriptive by custom paint, logo or modification from a TV show, movie or cartoon series._

_46. Do not paint or alter a fellow Autobot or a vehicle belonging to a governmental official, especially a liaison, to a known earth vehicle as mentioned in Rule 40 as a prank or calling it a 'design improvement'._ *Sunstreaker and Sideswipe

_49. No engineering, adding or creating structures on NEST base or surrounding areas by Autobots without permission and appropriate approval. _*Wheeljack, Ratchet and do not use the excuse their planning process is too complicated and Cybertron engineering is superior, which it clearly is.

_50. Do not create, fabricate or engineer toys or play areas for humans including Annabelle Lennox, Mikeala Banes and Sam Witwicky without clearing with parental units, Bumblebee and Ironhide_. *Wheeljack

Sarah and Annabelle Lennox walked into the main hangar, laughing and carrying their beach pails. Their flip flops were covered with sand as were their shorts and tank tops.

"What has my sparkling been up to?" Captain Will Lennox asked, grinning up at Ironhide, beating him to the question and deliberately using a Cybertron term for his child.

"Making sand castles daddy. Only it kept falling over." The little girl said, crossing her arms and frowning. "And the tide washed part of the last one away."

"Other than that it was fun," Sarah added, kissing Will. "Too small anyways. Couldn't get the water sand mix right."

"Castle?" Ironhide repeated. "Was there danger that you needed a defensive structure? Why did you not signal?" His black armor reflected the light as his cannons began powering up.

"No silly." Annabelle giggled. "I was a princess! They live in castles but next time you can play and help me fight off mean old dragons. Okay?"

The ancient mech looked blank at the term princess and dragon then surfed the internet, seeking more information. He nodded, understanding the reference to fantasy play.

Wheeljack listened intently too , doing his own scientific research on the concept of sand castles, tides and human's liking of playing on the beach.

Three days later he led the Lennox family and assembled Autobots to the beach. "I made this for Annabelle," he gestured to an enormous sand castle.

"For me?" she squealed, her eyes huge as she looked up, up, and up at the monstrous structure. She started forward when Will Lennox grabbed her.

"Stay here honey, let daddy and his friends make sure this is safe." He ignored her pout, a soldiers caution overlaying the love of a caring father. The assembled Autobots were already investigating it, talking to each other in their native language, the high pitched clicks echoing.

"I'll watch." Optimus said, kneeling down in the sand and leaning over to be closer to her.

::It's the parental unit you need to explain too. And Wheeljack, there is nothing to go wrong is there?:: Optimus

::It's sand Prime:: The scientist sounded hurt. ::It's non-lethal, non-explosive, and built to Cybertron specs:: Wheeljack

Wheeljack then began explaining to everyone else, kneeling towards Will. "Its silicon ionized mynamari epoxy mixed in. Eight regular rooms, standard forty feet high, plus a grand ballroom. Driftwood cut, laid flat and coated with the same oxy for the floors and ceilings. Two front defensive towers with enclosed staircases and observation windows. "

Annabelle inhaled sharply, moving closer to Optimus then relaxed as a small red crab scuttled by her feet. "Thought it was a spider. I don't like spiders."

"Neither do I," Optimus said softly, "Keep that a secret?"

"Uh huh." She realized Wheeljack was still taking about her new play house and listened again.

"Over eighteen thousand square feet." Seeing the astonished look, Wheeljack added, " Had to have room for her friends. We're not all human sized you know. Walkway extends all around the upper level and the base is sunk twelve meters, err thirty six feet, into base rock below."

"It's strong then?" Will asked, trying to understand what he was hearing.

"With that epoxy, it will withstand a blast up to 12,000 mega clicks like our base armor. Oh, Megatron or Soundwave could take it down but not lighter mech fire. Not even a force five hurricane, story surge, earthquake or other environmental weather condition. Might flood it and leave debris but this baby should last at least twenty-four vorns."

Will nodded, absently doing the math in his head as he felt the solidness of the wall. 'One vorn is eighty-three years so twenty-four vorns is..Wow.'

"My apartment is only about a thousand feet and I thought it was the best," Epps muttered jealously. No one corrected the sergeant, feeling a bit jealous themselves. "Hey man," he motioned to Will, "Be glad she didn't want a tree house."


	12. Chapter 12 Prime confesses and car seats

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. To clarify reader questions, if you get a fic idea or want to use a rule from here _go ahead._ I willingly share and I don't own Transformers, none of us do. Please e-mail me that you are going to, and send me the link so I can go read and enjoy what you write and refer other readers your way. Only NO SLASH OR SMUT PLEASE. And yes, soon I will post the first 50 rules as their own chapter.

This set of rules seemed to focus more on human interactions and one major plug for child safety. I was a firefighter and EMT for over seven years and injured kids are the worse accidents to deal with. Tried to make it lighter hearted and Transformer style here. Onward to merriment and madness.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

Prowl shifted to the right, tilting forward, his arm awkwardly reaching across to the left side of his desk for the next datapad. He slid it towards him, unable to move his left arm. It was in a traction field and immobile from the shoulder down. "Over enthusiastic twins anyways. One little processing glitch and I end up in med bay with a stripped bend joint that has to be rebuilt from scratch. They ended up with wrench shaped dents in their helms and afts though for it. Ironhide didn't have a scratch on his armor. Worse, he threatened to show the video of the whole episode next movie night. Could be worse, Red Alert could have attempted to fix a human."

_47. No experimenting on human supporters, human friends and never youngling or sparklings._ *Wheeljack and Trailbreaker. Is this rule even necessary?

Sam Witwicky watched Trailbreaker intently as he explained the small device sitting on the table between them. "A force field has its limitations. Most important, it has to be ON to work. This is only a mini of the one I carry. I use it to test applications but it may be just the thing for a being your size."

"After begin blown off a building, grabbed and tossed around, nearly scalped by a pint sized horror, transported halfway around the known world, and shot at by Megatron I'm open to anything that saves my skin." The young man said, watching the black mech. His alt form of a pickup camper had been useful on long weekends when Bumblebee and Mikeala had shared holiday time together. Sam had trusted him and Bumblebee to guard them while sleeping. And now this device might protect him daily.

"Turn on by triggering this sequence, red green red yellow." Trailbreaker demonstrated on his front panel, watching as Sam clipped the device to his t-shirt and copied the pattern. The hum and shimmer of light surrounded them both then faded from view. "And that's all there is to it. Instant protection. Oh, there are limits. Physical things are stopped but not air or gasses or you couldn't breathe. Nothing can touch you but great force and impact will make you mush inside the field. Like Megatron falling on you or Ultra Magnus running you over. Understand?"

"I think so," he frowned, not sure how much protection it was then. "How do you turn it off?"

"Touch the center and send a magnetic pulse." Trailbreaker's form shimmered again then the field disappeared. "See, easy."

"How do I do that?" Sam asked, waving one very human flesh and blood hand.

"……."

Fifteen minutes later, Wheeljack frowned, listening to their report of the problem. "There is a way," he started. "This is an absolute secret however. The right pulse frequency will turn it off within close range. Each unit is different so we'll have to try the standard range then amplify the power output."

"Why a secret? Decepticons right? Force field's only work when on." Sam worked it out verbally. "This won't hurt will it? I promised Bumblebee nothing would happen if he went to that peace conference without me. "

"Nothing should hurt. Just don't move." Wheeljack's side bars flashed yellow with light blue before settling into pale green as he tinkered with the magnetic pulse emitter that arose out of his lower arm. "Here we go."

The first pulses did nothing. The fourth pulse blew the lights. Headlights triggered, blinding Sam until the mechs reset them to low beams. Next pulse did nothing. Then the lab doors slammed closed, locking with a loud click following the pulse after that.

"I'll open them later. We're getting closer." Wheeljack tried more pulses, each triggering various lab equipment. "I really need to shield my equipment better."

"Try a stronger pulse 'Jack. Before the others come to investigate." Trailbreaker advised.

"Double strength it is." The device flared, sending it out. One set of headlights abruptly blanked out followed by a loud crash off to their right. Wheeljack leaned down, shining his lights on his friend, now in stasis lock.

"Need to narrow the pulse field." He tinkered with the settings, and looked up, finding Sam missing off the table. Using his thermal vision, he detected him hiding in the access space below it. It took nearly five minutes of talking softly before Sam agreed to come out.

"Triple strength, narrow field…and nothing happened. Strange. One more setting and we try something different. Maximum strength."

"Yes!" Sam screamed as the air around his body shimmered then disappeared. He flung the device away, heading for the bathroom. "Be right back!"

"Ohhhhhhh." A moan from the floor sounded as Trailbreaker came back online. "Did it work?"

EMERGENCY FREQUENCY OVERRIDE

:Prime to all Autobots. Full combat alert. Unknown attack has knocked out base power and the alarms. Where are Sam and Mikeala?:: Optimus managed to sound mad and worried at the same time.

::Mikeala is safe in med lab:: Ratchet

::Sam is safe in the research lab with me and Trailbreaker:: Wheeljack

::Keep them safe until we determine the extent of the threat and remove it. Clear:: Optimus

Trailbreaker blinked, sitting up as the lights clicked back on. "We better tell him."

"Let Sam tell him."

Sam did talk with Optimus. The base returned to normal status, and every mech and femme had to review all protocols, procedures and rules as relating to human safety. Trailbreaker and Wheeljack had to write them out one hundred times each while Bumblebee and Prowl watched. Sam wrote out "I will not let Autobots experiment on me," one hundred times as Mikeala, Bumblebee and Optimus watched.

_55. Do not answer the any of the following when a human asks, "Can I ask you a question?"_

_a. I don't answer to inferior life forms_

_b. Do I look like a talking car? Wait, I am! Oh primus! (when in alt mode)_

_c. The special today is Decepticon wing seared by an energon sword with light canon fire and…._

_d. Did you take a number at the front gate? We are currently servicing questioner # 4 right now. _

_e. Sorry, I'm spoken for. Interspecies relationships are expressly forbidden, painfully impossible and you are so not my type._

_f. A question? That reminds me of the time on Ceti Alpha Eight. I questioned if we would survive. We were surrounded by organic rube hybrids that…… _

_g. Depends. It is important like Unicron attacking and destroying whole worlds or important like the fallen about to engage the sun collector or important like I'm a puny human who is being inquisitive and probably should ask another mech?_

_h. What is this? Miss American pageant? Fine. World peace and an end to soggy doughnuts. _

_i. No vacancies. Full for the weekend. Try the military base up the road. _

_j. How long do I have to think about it ?_

_k. Yes, no, maybe, probably, then again not in this lifetime so get lost fleshling. _

_l. WHAT?!!! (at full volume capacity)_

_m. Any answer in Cybertron while gesturing wildly._

_n. Screaming and folding down into your alt form and driving off wildly_. *Twins

_o. Me no like guessing games. Me stomp! Why you run away?_ *Grimlock

_p. Play the clip, "please hold." Then play instrumental music until they leave._ *Bumblebee

_q. Yes, we're twins and I'm the better looking one._ *Sunstreaker and Sideswipe

_r. Why, you going to write a blog on my answer ? _

_s. Any other answer not approved by Autobot Command or NEST or the Press Liaison. _

"Yes Prime?" Prowl asked without looking behind him as the mech entered the office.

"Alert as ever. I promised Ratchet I would check on you." He said, looking his second in command over quickly.

"Recovering and working," he answered. "And your promise is fulfilled. Not that any mech would ever doubt you."

"Actually I was accused of telling a lie and in so doing was guilty of, how was it phrased again? Of conduct unbecoming a Prime, less than a joor ago." He tilted his head to the side, remembering.

Prowl looked straight at Optimus. "Please tell me so I can slag whoever accused you." His very frame was vibrating with suppressed emotion, the datapad and work forgotten.

"I'm a big bot remember that rule? If I can handle Decepticons, offlining and returning from the Egypt fight I can handle a few disbeliefs."

"It was a human wasn't it?" His tone was flat and devoid of emotion as faint red specks began showing in the optics.

"No, and more than one Autobot didn't believe me either." He placed a hand on Prowl's shoulder, keeping him in his chair. "It was a minor matter. "

"If it affects you if affects all of us and this world. My life, my job is to ensure safety and security."

"I painted the liaisons' car to look like the fictional character Herbie." Optimus confessed, waiting for Prowl's logic glitch to trigger and send the mech into stasis lock. Instead he sagged, looking defeated.

"How did I fail you that you cannot confide in me? Who and what really happened?" Prowl's tone was nearly a sob and Optimus winced. Silently, Optimus walked around to face the front of the desk and held out his wrist, offering a connection cable.

"See for yourself old friend." The connection was accepted and blue optics dimmed as the transfer completed.

::You…you…you…painted…:: Prowl sputtered.

::Yes I did:: Optimus

::But...you….you…you're a Prime!:: Prowl

::And that makes me?:: Optimus

:: A Prime!:: Prowl

::I still have a sense of humor. Even if no one believes me when I told them:: Optimus grinned, closing the connection and replacing the cable back under his armor.

"I make mistakes. Remember me telling Bumblebee as a sparkling not to listen to what the twins told him to do?" he reminded, determined not to let his rank interfere with their friendship.

"He got into their glow in the dark paint." Prowl consulted his memory banks. " They warned him not to touch it and the moment they were busy elsewhere he practically bathed in it. Then ran from them when they tried to wash him and told him to stop running. "

"It took ten orns for the effect to wear off because it had dried by the time they called for help in catching him. Though Ironhide swore it made 'Bee easier to check on when he recharged. Glowed like a nova beacon." Both mechs laughed, remembering happier times from their journeys around the galaxies. "Ironhide was an excellent choice as a guardian. And still is."

_56. Do not tease, be critical of or underestimate the importance of an Autobot using safety equipment designed for humans, especially younglings and sparklings, including Annabelle Lennox. _

Ironhide drove into the Transformer hangar, opening the passenger door to let Sarah Lennox out. She hugged Will Lennox as Annabelle undid her booster seat straps, then slid into Daddy's waiting arms. A few snaps and the booster seat was removed by Sarah, allowing Ironhide to transform into his bipedal mode.

"Nice upgrade there 'Hide," Sunstreaker smirked, pointing at the seat.

"Didn't come in any other color than black huh? The fashions today are just so bland." Sideswipe quipped, joining his twin in the teasing.

"It's for Annabelle's safety." Ironhide growled, stepping clear of the Lennox family while shifting his battle routines into a holding queue.

"And required by human laws." Optimus reminded, coming up deliberately behind the twins to discourage any further problems. That night they were watching the news as had become a nightly habit. Humans were interspersed around the raised work platform and the Transformers spread out when a terrible looking accident was displayed as a clip for an upcoming news segment. Intrigued, Sergeant Epps had turned up the volume and switched it to the large wall, serving as a giant TV screen. The reporter spoke of a rural two car accident. Five children had died, none of them wearing seatbelts or in appropriate restraining seats. The mom was sobbing heart broken in the background as the images of yellow tarps laid out on the ground were shown.

The report switched back to the main studio and newscasters. "Accidents are the leading cause of death for children. Many, like those just shown, are easily preventable." Various statistics and other child fatality news segments followed. There was not a sound in the hangar as they all watched. The station went to commercials and Ironhide walked over towards the platform stairs, bending down to look at Annabelle's booster seat thoughtfully.

The next day, fifteen orders for belt positioning high back booster seats with five part harnesses were placed via the internet, shipped next day air. That weekend they were presented for Annabelle's approval.

"Each is assigned to a specific Autobot that you may ride with, even if only in the event of an emergency." Optimus told her. "See if you can match who detailed each one."

"Bees!" she guessed, pointing to the little smiling bumblebees and bright flowers that covered the seat.

"Twins!" A shout identified the next two, both painted as red or yellow mini rockets blasting off super fast.

"Hatchet!" she pointed at the one with brown cuddly teddy bears wearing little bandages and wrapped limbs for boo boo's.

"That's pronounced Ratchet!" He corrected, glaring at the other Transformers, knowing that was their nickname for him.

Each seat in the row was matched until the last two. Annabelle glanced up at the waiting bots then back at the seats. The pink princess design had a small silver and blue orb attached on a cord and she clapped her hands in delight as it lit up when she approached. "Opts!"

"Told you she would figure it out Optimus. My kid is smart. Like her father." Captain Lennox bragged then gasped as his wife's elbow jarred him.

"I'm half her genetics too." Sarah reminded, pointing at both their blonde colored hairs.

"Ironhide's!" Annabelle identified the black glossy seat.

"Basic black, what a surprise." Sunstreaker said.

"Basic with a few changes. Not plastic but Cybertron armor plating molded and reshaped. GWPS included, Galaxy Wide Positioning System, basic blast shields on both sides and top that raise in event of a potential impact or energy reading," Ironhide said.

"He also adjusted his interior and transform protocols," Ratchet added with a snort. "Took me a week just to work out the mobility rotating details." Everyone looked at Ironhide.

"Nothing really. If attacked, and she's in the child seat in my cab, I can transform and she will slide inside and under my armor, where my chest panels are the strongest and transform back to alt mode around her without crushing her." He looked down, waving one hand in a no big deal motion. "Can't just stop and set her out in an attack."

Will and Sarah looked at each other then at the Transformers, feeling they were missing something. Annabelle grinned, knowing a secret. Any Transformer could adjust their alt mode specifically and she had helped Ratchet and Mikeala with the transform sequence, learning what the treaty forbid any human to know. But she wasn't going to tell. She'd promised to keep that secret and others. That was what friends did.


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: I never had any idea the rules would grow and inspire the way they have. Thanks for all the reviews. And there are so many more rules and misadventures coming. Decepticons, Aerialbots, ancient Primes and those pesky twins too.

Super thanks to fan fiction writers ladyofdarkstar for Transformers fic "**What comes around**" based on rule 38 about duct tape, budgets, and Ratchet. Moonrose91 for Transformers fic on "**Rule Number 35"** about being towed and breaking free by the twins. Both read then wrote their own super great fics. Go check them out and leave wonderful reviews please. Direct links to their fics are in my profile.

Thanks for all the suggestions. I try to work them in at least 1 per chapter and there have been a lot. Keep reading and they may appear without warning in ways never imagined based on wording alone. First 56 rules are posted in sequence below per all the requests. Rules 57 and onward have gaps in the numbering and will be added in the future in blocks as completed. Yes, there is a general order to their numbers. Onward to order.

TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR

An administrative message popped up in the middle of datapad screen, breaking into the rule Prowl was adding. "Do you wish to auto archive older files now?" He read the alert. "Hmm, maybe." Clicking the message box, the rules of Autobot / Nest Conduct opened and displayed. "These are still active. Better review them for relevance and to remind myself of their most current wording. And just to be safe, I will remove the associated context situations involved to prevent any of them triggering my logic processing error."

**If an Autobot, do NOT do the following: **

1. Do not hide, confiscate or remove human's coffee, soda pop, energy drinks, chocolate candy, donuts, sugar, or other preferred food items as a joke or in retaliation for a prank or perceived prank. They will not take it well.

2. Do not attempt to get humans to eat healthy. They are sentient enough to make their own dietary choices, however self-destructive. Refer to Rule # 1. You can report them, however, to the human Chief Medical officer via his email.

3. Do not tell civilians that NEST stands for 'Need to Eliminate Stinking Terrorists,' or 'Natural Enemies Selected thoughtfully,' or 'New and Emerging Science and Technology' or anything but what it stands for. (Networked Element, Supporters and Transformers.)

4. Do not identify yourself as an Autobot or Decepticon (even in joking) around any humans without proper government authorized security clearance. And never answer:

a.) What, you can't tell?

B.) That's it! I'm so firing my talent agent for these low level appearances.

c.) Your worse slaggin nightmare!

d.) This year's new Christmas prototype. Do you like my paint job?

e.) A lost soul looking for love.

f.) A pissed off robot whose going to slag the next human that asks me that!

5. No changing the order of the letters on human keyboards.

6. Do not ever start a conversation, excuse or alibi with the following phrases when explaining to Autobot Command or NEST Military officers.

a. He / She started it (while pointing at Twin, sparkmate or fellow Autobot.)

b. I dare you to

c. But it was just sitting there

d. We were wondering if

e. It sounded like a good idea

f. You mean we had to ask first before

g. It looked safe on the datapad

h. How were we suppose to know it wouldn't

i. It would have worked on Cybertron

j. It's not our fault that

k. There's a rule on this already? Bummer.

7. Do not replace, modify or upgrade any soldiers weapons in any way, structure or form. No exceptions. Any questions regarding this rule should seek the guidance of myself (Prowl), Optimus Prime and Captain Lenox and refer to the alien treaty, sections 14 through 47.

8. While in alt modes, all holographic drivers will be clothed! Do not provoke unnecessary reactions from other drivers as this causes unsafe driving conditions and potential crashes.

9. Do not "DARE" any human or Autobot to take any action that is unsafe, risky or hazardous to themselves or other personnel.

10. Do not use the excuse, but it was a dare! To explain behavior or damage, to a superior office and NEVER TO RATCHET or Mikeala Banes. They will inflict damage worse than the resulting injury of said dare.

11. Do not threaten, injure or take offense if a human asks you to open your trunk, look under your hood or uses phrases like 'nice wheels.' Especially if said human is from the motor pool department. NEST team members have been issued a memo on appropriate comments and actions regarding us. Any potential violations are to be reported to me and Captain Lennox immediately.

12. Do not attempt to copy all human mannerisms. Facial expressions and some gestures are good cross cultural behaviors but respect physical differences.

13. All Autobots will respect and follow proper channels for requests. Not knowing who to ask or personal emotional enthusiasm is not a valid reason for ignoring this rule.

14. Do not encourage Cybertron glyphs, language, or religious beliefs among the humans. When asked, you may explain, briefly, our engraved glyphs are names or what the glyphs are. Otherwise, refer them to myself, Jolt or Mirage.

15. No downloading music and repeating lyrics without fully understanding the words, near humans, especially females of the species.

16. Do not use Cybertronian scanning technology for the personal use of humans unless first clearing it with the supporter's chain of command, Captain Lennox and Sergeant Epps.

17. Do not imply human relationships to Autobots.

18. It is okay to comment on human female's weight loss but never on any gained weight.

19. Do not study or experiment with indigenous wildlife without appropriate safety precautions.

20. Do not create automated drones in shapes that scare, intimidate or panic humans or Autobots.

21. Do not let humans use recordings to make ringtones, wav files, voice clips or songs of us or supporters.

22. Do not watch a cartoon marathon then approach Ratchet with 'what's up Doc' repeatedly the next day. He will run out of wrenches, tools, chairs, tables then begin to throw the smaller Autobots.

23. Do not expect to get out of trouble using your age, war status or rank as a prerogative with command, supporter or Transformer or their sparkmate and wife, including a Prime.

24. No rerouting all internet connections to any hot robots site especially after posing for your own albums.

25. No visual media of our existence, without previous clearance, is allowed. Including photos, sketches, video imaging and more.

26. Do not help humans in their attempts to fly. Their species is not capable of self-propelled flight, no matter the appearance at the time.

27. Do not use live weapons fire around humans without considering their fragile nature and inadequate building structures.

28. Do not use Cybertronian technology to create drones for any purpose not expressly approved by command.

29. A Government Liaison is not to be harassed, threatened, or targeted for pranks in any way.

30. Do not lose, misfile or fail to translate into English any report, form or other information requests by a government official including liaisons. If needing assistance, contact myself (Prowl) or Optimus Prime.

31. Do not confuse the human liaison as to our identities, intents, or purposes. Do not discuss or mention anything related to our beliefs, history or battle plans. Refer the liaison to Optimus Prime or Captain Lennox.

32. Do not use the following excuses to explain why a report, form or other request was not completed in a timely and complete manner:

a. I didn't know the deadline was that close.

b. I seem to be missing the processors for that

c. That event / request is not in my memory banks

d. Oh, I was supposed to do it? I thought you were just mentioning it

e. I didn't volunteer for that

f. I'm waiting on more data

g. I'm a solider not a Prime

h. I was guarding Sam and Mikeala that week

i. It's a human problem. Why bother me with it?

j. We're in this together and I'm waiting on their parts

k. Dang computer froze again

l. High speed was down, dial-up took too long

m. It's back on Cybertron

n. Decepticons blew it up

o. Ravage ate it

33. Do not take it personal if a human hangs anything from the center windshield mirror. Do not throw it and/or the human out onto the road. Please turn it over to me (Prowl).

34. Do not encourage, participate in or teach gambling activities for human supporters or Autobots.

35. No parking in designated illegal tow zones, allowing yourself to be towed then breaking free and racing down the road the wrong direction.

36. Do not test possible Decepticon weaponry or explosives devices by attempting to activate them. Do not dispose of them in an unsafe manner on NEST or human areas.

37. Do not hesitate to signal an emergency, even if you have caused it. Use the appropriate level of alarm and do not notify Prime by texting "How do we evacuate the base in a hurry?"

38. Medical personnel are not bound to or under the command of government liaison in regards to repairs and necessary upgrades as dictated by budget concerns.

39. Do not lie, cheat or add to mileage reimbursement forms turned in. All data is verifiable upon request by command officers, Optimus Prime or Ratchet.

40. Do not take any alt form that is a known earth vehicle including but not limited to:

a. Black car with oscillating red light sensor in the front known as Kitt, the 1984 Pontiac Trans Am Firebird or the 2009 Ford Shelby GT500KR Mustang versions.

b. 1980's GMC Vandura Black and grey van with red stripes up side, the A-team.

c. 1966 Chevrolet Sport van 108, Green with mystery machine graphics, Scooby Doo.

d. 1963 White Volkswagen with number 8 graphics, Herbie the love bug.

e. A long black car with extended nose and rocket jet on the back, Batmobile

f. 1969 Dodge Charger, orange with black 01 painted on both doors, General Lee, Dukes of Hazzard.

Silver DeLorean DMC-12, 16-port twin exhaust boxes, flux capacitor, Back To the Future

g. 1974 Ford Grand Torino Red with white stripes at doors and up to back window, Starsky and Hutch

h. 1959 Cadillac ambulance, white with a green ghost graphics, the Ghostbusters Ecto-1.

i. 1976 AMC Pacer, blue with mini flames behind front wheels, Wayne's World

j. Any other vehicle descriptive by custom paint, logo or modification from a TV show, movie or cartoon series.

41. Do not offer to assist in human maintenance activities including but not limited to trash removal, weed trimming, mowing the grass, or removing stains off the concrete floor or similar buy using live weapons fire. Also see rule # 42.

42. Do not use trash, discarded computer equipment, or abandoned vehicles for target practice unless it is clearly marked as trash or discarded, especially if those items belong to the current government liaison.

43. Do not offer, agree, or interact with human sport teams or groups unless authorized by myself (Prowl) or Ratchet. All contact sports are prohibited for obvious reasons and other sports for non-obvious reasons. Also, see rule 44.

44. Do not agree to referee, judge or monitor any sports team or group.

45. When assisting in practice drills, and playing a Decepticon, do not transform still wearing the Decepticon symbol in the middle of the mess tent, anyone's sleeping quarters or on the firing range.

46. Do not paint or alter a fellow Autobot or a vehicle belonging to a governmental official, especially a liaison, to a known earth vehicle as mentioned in Rule 40 as a prank or calling it a 'design improvement.'

47. No experimenting on human supporters, human friends and never youngling or sparklings.

48. Do not imply, state or acknowledge any fantasy world of the humans as being REAL including but not limited to Star Trek, Babylon 5, Star Wars, Stargate, Alien, Predator, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, the Day the Earth Stood Still and related.

49. No engineering, adding or creating structures on NEST base or surrounding areas by Autobots without permission and appropriate approval.

50. Do not create, fabricate or engineer toys or play areas for humans including Annabelle Lennox, Mikeala Banes and Sam Witwicky without clearing with parental units, Bumblebee and Ironhide.

51. No exceeding posted speed limits and use extreme caution around the supporters, their younglings and sparklings, especially Annabelle Lennox.

52. No leaving datapads of any kind around Annabelle Lennox. Also, see rule # 53.

53. No profanity spoken or written in either English or Cybertronian around Annabelle Lennox.

54. No giving candy to Annabelle Lennox without clearing it with parental units AND Ironhide.

55. Do not answer the any of the following when a human asks, "Can I ask you a question?"

a. I don't answer to inferior life forms

b. Do I look like a talking car? Wait, I am! Oh primus! (when in alt mode)

c. The special today is Decepticon wing seared by an energon sword with light canon fire and….

d. Did you take a number at the front gate? We are currently servicing questioner # 4 right now.

e. Sorry, I'm spoken for. Interspecies relationships are expressly forbidden, painfully impossible and you are so not my type.

f. A question? That reminds me of the time on Ceti Alpha Eight. I questioned if we would survive. We were surrounded by organic rube hybrids that……

g. Depends. It is important like Unicron attacking and destroying whole worlds or important like the fallen about to engage the sun collector or important like I'm a puny human who is being inquisitive and probably should ask another mech?

h. What is this? Miss American pageant? Fine. World peace and an end to soggy doughnuts.

i. No vacancies. Full for the weekend. Try the military base up the road.

j. How long do I have to think about it ?

k. Yes, no, maybe, probably, then again not in this lifetime so get lost fleshling.

l. WHAT?!!! (at full volume capacity)

m. Any answer in Cybertron while gesturing wildly.

n. Screaming and folding down into your alt form and driving off wildly. *Twins

o. Me no like guessing games. Me stomp! Why you run away? *Grimlock

p. Play the clip, "please hold." Then play instrumental music until they leave. *Bumblebee

q. Yes, we're twins and I'm the better looking one. *Sunstreaker and Sideswipe

r. Why, you going to write a blog on my answer ?

s. Any other answer not approved by Autobot Command or NEST or the Press Liaison.

56. Do not tease, be critical of or underestimate the importance of an Autobot using safety equipment designed for humans, especially younglings and sparklings, including Annabelle Lennox.


	14. Chapter 14

Author's notes: Thanks for adding this fic to your favorite stories list. Odd mix, a bit of this and that. And to answer questions, I am way too much like Prowl. I love lists and rules and have a lot of his personality. I would love to be a Prime but alas, no matrixes are available at the moment. Annabelle is now about age five.

Spark spires are my creation, think of the petals of a dahlia flower, curved and surrounding the spark in silver metal "spires" to protect the spark energy. Allows the blue energy to show. Only Megatron and Optimus have spark chambers in the _Ultimate Guide to Transformers_ book but logically all Transformers would have _something_ to protect the spark. The spark is the essence of their soul, contains all their memories and personality.

All my fics are SLASH / SMUT free. Normal friendships are portrayed ONLY. Best friends and NOTHING more. Do not read anything else into these please. Cybertron time: Breem 8.3 minutes, Joor 6.5 hours, Orn 13 days, Vorn 83 years. 1 hour is 7.2289 Breems, 1 day 24 hours is 3.6923 Joors, 1 month 31 days is 2.3846 Orns, 1 year is 28.079 orns, and 5 years is 140 orns. 20 years is approx one fourth or quarter of a Vorn. Onward to unexpected surprises.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TANSFORMERS

Autobot Second In Command and Security Officer Prowl uploaded more military personnel files, amazed at how often they were updated on the human side. "We have few titles among ourselves. Scout, weapons specialist, seeker, second in command, chief medical officer, medic and our highest, Prime. We have Autobot and Decepticon. Mech and femme."

"Captain, correction, Major Lennox's Annabelle has been a newborn, infant, baby, toddler, small child, and little girl. The femme is 154 orns old or five and a half human years. Since she was sparked, our species arrived on earth, Bumblebee was captured by humans, the Allspark destroyed, Megatron offlined, we made friends with humans, formed NEST, Megatron back online, Sam kidnapped, Optimus Prime offlined, discovered the tomb of the Primes, Optimus Prime back online, fought and defeated the Fallen, destroyed the sun reaper machine, more Autobots and Decepticons arrive and now what does the future hold?"

He closed his optics, bowing his head. 'Peace, Primus hear me, I want peace. For both our races.' There was only silence. Opening his optics, Prowl began skimming through reports on his datapad. Internal comm signals interrupted one after the other.

:: Prowl, forewarning. Latest military advisor is making inquiries about Jazz being brought back:: Optimus

::Do they suspect we have the matrix?:: Prowl

:: No. They still believe it was destroyed in the sun reaper in Egypt two years ago:: Ironhide

:: How are we handling it?:: Prowl

::That Jazz was in extreme stasis lock and without energon and special Cybertron equipment he couldn't be "saved" to full functioning at that time. And I implied their language was extremely imprecise with multiple meanings and there was confusion over his actual status:: Ratchet

::And?:: Prowl

::The human can be discouraged if he presses further:: Ironhide's gruff tone expressed what type of discouragement he was thinking of.

::The treaty specifies our right to secrets in regards to our race. Threats are not necessary:: Optimus

::Better you than me in politics:: Prowl

::Better you than me with the twins. They're free from the brig today?::Optimus

::I was trying to forget. Thanks for reminding me. I'll clear my schedule:: Prowl

::Keep me informed. I have two Pentagon meetings, one budget review and four Homeland Security briefings today:: Optimus ::I could use humor.::

::Comm me if you need fire power:: Ironhide

::I'll have med bay on standby as always:: Ratchet

"Why do I foresee more rules?" Prowl murmured, returning to his daily work.

_57. Do not change official equipment in regards to telling time, location or other required information._

Ultra Magnus strode into the Autobot hangar, automatically monitoring everything. All solider, any change was noted and logged for future reference. He glanced over at the clocks, noting each displayed the correct, if different time, for a distant city and country. It was the Autobot clock that brought his white with red and blue armor frame to a halt.

"Autobot clock? We keep time internally. So why?" He asked, moving closer to read the glyphs that were in the place of numbers. What would be 1 on a human clock was "time for the twins to pull a prank." 2 on the clock was " time for Bumblebee to play another song," and around the circle it went. "time for Prime to fix a world size problem," "time for Ratchet to throw another wrench," "time for Ironhide to threaten with his cannons," "time for Wheeljack to blow something up," "time for a human liaison to quit,""time for Prowl to add a new rule," "time for Annabelle to be cute," "time for Sam to run and get chased" "time for humans to have a meeting" and "time to be homesick for Cybertron."

"I will find who did this prank." He said, pulling up the beacon locations of every Autobot on base from the night before on the central monitor."See who was in this room after the last time I knew that wall was blank." He blinked rapidly, not computing what the indicators were saying.

"Optimus Prime – lost in la la land of desert dreams.

Ironhide – blowing up the usual things.

Ratchet – blowing his temper.

Blurr- everywhere, just give him time to get there and back. Oops, you blinked.

Jazz – into music and don't bother him man.

Kup – Backwards in time. Ask and he'll tell you when and where.

Grimlock – Him stomp away, be back soon.

Ultra Magnus – Off being just a soldier."

"Off? I take my duties seriously. Wait a breem, I know who is missing." Typing, he entered two names then waited for their location.

"Twins – Wouldn't you like to know? We were here and you were not. Enjoy our gift, thanks a lot."

"Why am I not surprised," the mech muttered.

Jazz walked in, slowly and still unsure of his surroundings, dealing with the major changes from his last memory of fighting Megatron to their new alliance with the humans. He saw the clock then stopped, reading its times. It was the smile on Jazz's face plates, the 'I'm amused and enjoying life smile' that decided him.

A single keystroke and the locator list disappeared from view. "What's a little fun now and then. There is more to life than begin a soldier. " Ultra Magnus reasoned then called to the other mech. "Hey Jazz, how about some energon? I'm heading that way and heard a new song you might like."

_64. Do not exceed proper boundaries in human Autobot relationships. Any disregard of this rule will result in disciplinary action to an Autobot as well as accidental injury or prohibited knowledge to the humans._

Prowl drummed his fingers on the desktop, concerned about the phrasing of this rule. "Implies too personal an interaction between the species. And this was not. Though Sam and Bumblebee should have known better."

"'Bee, can I ask you something?" Sam had inquired innocently enough. They were watching the stars from their favorite spot on the lookout by Sam's house.

"_Your voice was all I heard_," song snippet played from his yellow guardian.

"Annabelle and I have been talking on IM chat and she mentioned spark spires, transform adjustments and armor spacing for hiding. Ironhide changed his transform for her child safety seat," the boy hesitated before looking directly at his guardian. "Based on you changing your armor to hide Mikeala and me, even risking your spark to do so. Did you really do that for me?" he watched in surprise as Bumblebee sat up straight, optics closing as his frame stiffened, falling over backwards in shock.

"Bee! Bee, I'm sorry." He rushed to his friend. "I didn't mean oof!"

Bumblebee's optics snapped open, as his arms grabbed Sam and hugged him close to his chest as sounds of laughter played from his speakers. The mech formed a smile with his face, then tapped his metal chest once. The smallest of whirring sounds was heard as a split appeared in the center of his chest plates. Both pieces raised up slowly, then slid over, as blue light flowed out. Silver metal spires unwrapped outward, revealing the full brilliance of his life force.

"Is that your spark?" Sam gasped, blinking at the light's intensity and strength.

"_You got it in one!_" A movie clip of a man's voice played.

"Wow. That is incredible, and you do have space under your armor, enough to hide in. Your spark is so bright. Annabelle says Ironhide's is warm and lulls her to sleep."

Bumblebee gestured at Sam then under his armor as the spark spires closed back inward dimming the light only partially. The intent was clear.

"I can?" the human hesitated, watching as Bumblebee repeated the gesture of 'get in.' Cautiously, he sat up, bringing his legs around forward, sliding down under the armor. He sat down, bracing on engine looking parts, barely able to sit upright in the tight space. "It's warm. And I can feel the hum of your spark. No wonder Annabelle loves this." Relaxing, the teen leaned back and closed his eyes. Bumblebee closed his chest panels, his attention focused inward.

That was the exact moment the Decepticon seeker roared overhead. Battle systems engaged immediately, bringing Bumblebee's weapons and defenses online. As well as one program sequence never activated before. It responded to the presence of a life form, though human, that still bore the echo of the Allspark and Prime Matrix.

The Decepticon spun in the air, transforming and began to land in his mech form. Red optics went wide as Bumblebee staggered, going to one knee as his entire back transformed, shifting all weapons power and systems to one spot.

"You surrender already? Weak little scout! Nightflyer takes no prisoners." He yelled, aiming his wrist missile.

When Megatron had captured Bumblebee on Tyger Pax, he had tortured the little mech. Those memories haunted the young scout until Optimus Prime had linked in, overriding them and locking them behind an unbreakable code lock before uploading part of his own programming to deal with the aftereffects. Unknowingly, his Prime's programming had been transferred too. Only a Prime, powered by a Matrix could carry and use certain plasma weaponry. Lines of code within Bumblebee misread Sam as a Matrix and formatted that exact weapon. The Decepticon never saw what hit him, only had a fraction of a tenth of a second to realize something powerful fired before his entire chest and spark vanished into dust.

Bumblebee blinked his optics, trying to reset from the blinding flash. He was on his hands and knee plates, blown backwards into a shallow trench by the backlash. External scans showed a smoking wreck of Decepticon nearby.

"_Nothing but love for you,_" Will Smith's voice, Independence Day scene were the virus to blow the entire ship had just been uploaded played as Bumblebee confirmed the seeker's destruction.

WARNING, POWER LEVELS EXCEEDED. EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN COMMMENCING displayed across his mainframe. Drained, Bumblebee fell forward, his entire form flat on the dirt, trapping Sam inside his armor. An automated distress signal brought the Autobots to the rescue within hours. Ratchet overrode the programming,sealing it back behind the appropriate firewall while Mikeala chewed Sam up one side and down the other as they tried to get circulation back into his cramped legs.

Optimus watched Bumblebee come back online, full of wonder that he had transferred that much into his programming. The chance that Bumblebee might become a Prime was now confirmed. It filled him with hope and he looked up at the stars. 'Our youngest can become our best.'

In the morning, they would return Sam back to college and the Autobots would return to the NEST base. Then he would have a private talk with Bumblebee about beginning command training.

_94. Do not tamper with base blue prints, alter GPS codes or land maps and provide to new personnel to "help" them find their way around._ *Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Bluestreak, Hound, Jolt, and Bumblebee.

Optimus, last living Autobot Prime, team leader and strategist, brother of Megatron, and Earth forces commander looked at his troops and resisted the urge to scream, throw them all in the brig or sigh in frustration. What he wanted to do was to congratulate them on creative thinking but that would set a very bad precedent too. Instead, he chose to look upset and commanding. He stood feet braced, arms crossed and weapons out but not charged.

"I understand the need for pranks. And human liaisons are our favorite target. However, this has gone on long enough." The tall mech stated, his vocal tone deep and controlled.

"How were we to know humans would upload our file to the master server? We never gave permission," Sunstreaker defended. His twin brother nodded as the others gestured their agreement.

"You never had permission to alter maps and GPS in the database either. But you did." Optimus said. "And the fact the misinformation has now spread was foreseeable. Switching Ratchet's med bay with shipping and receiving resulting in shipping delays was one thing. Switching the liaison quarters with the waste recycling center was another. But the congressional committee on funding got lost because you altered the GPS response from the base here at Diego Garcia to San Diego SeaWorld Park, a waste of taxpayer money."

"They didn't have to stay there and go to the park. They could have come here as planned." Bluestreak said.

"And NEST got their budget approved." Jolt added.

"_We are the champions my friends,"_ song snippet played from Bumblebee.

Optimus firmly controlled his face plates, preventing a smile. In truth, he had been relieved not to attend budget reviews for hours. Not that he could ever admit it.

"Notwithstanding, you will fix each and every error and participate in future updates for the next ten orns, guaranteeing accuracy. Yes Hound?" Noting the green Autobot had raised his hand human style for attention.

"You didn't mention one other switch." He said.

"Which is?" Optimus tilted his head, wondering what he had missed and why they were all grinning so much.

"Your office as Head Master Dumbledore's private quarters of course."

"……"


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Notes: More twin mayhem, Ratchet, and Bumblebee. Various other Transformers and humans mixed in. Captain Jorgensen is a created character mentioned in chapter 6 with Hound and again here. It has never been formally stated Bumblebee is Optimus son but in lots of fic writing he was created as the last Youngling using the matrix and Optimus alone as a sign of hope. No one knew the truth least Megatron hurt him to get revenge on Optimus. The official cover story was Bumblebee was found and given to Ironhide to protect. Bumblebee figured it out but never admitted he was linked to the brothers, Prime and Megatron.

I posted a separate fic called_ Boo Boo Bot Bunny_ with Annabelle and Ironhide. Too long to be a rule. More an awww fuzzy warm feeling fic than humor. Please read and review. Add me to an author alert and any story I post will be notified to you. Or not.

As for how long this series will go, as long as you want to laugh and read, I'll keep adding rules and the adventures behind them. Several of these were suggestions submitted on reviews. Hopefully I did them justice. Onward and skyward as it were.

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_58. Do not yell at a human, especially in front of higher command officers. They yell back. _

Hound had been around Captain Jorgensen enough to know the red headed femme had a temper. He had restrained her from tearing apart a fellow soldier when they discovered him recording the women in the showers and posting it on the internet. The other Autobots thought he had been exaggerating her strength and vocal volume.

Until the day they crashed her safety drill, literally. To be fair, Annabelle was improving her driving skills and Sideswipe had a point. If the human child truly controlled steering she would learn. It was a matter of bad timing they all ended up by the same sand pit. Hound held Annabelle, using a hologram of bunnies and baby deer to keep her busy as the red twin and Captain Jorgensen began yelling.

"The schedule was clear for this part of the base!" Sideswipe yelled, raising his vocal tone each time. "Why are you practicing here?!"

"Accidents occur without warning, like you fraggers! It's not a drill if you know it's coming!" The Captain yelled back, raising her voice over his.

The argument continued until Jorgensen hit that right vocal tone. A human could produce a high C and shatter glass. She hit a high F and triggered the energon sword release on his back. It sub spaced and extended, dropping into the pavement below up to its hilt. But not before melting through the base's water main. The steam buckled the surrounding pavement as everyone evacuated a safe distance away.

Sideswipe looked sheepish as Jorgensen had glared. She spoke one sentence before stalking off, yelling for emergency crews.

"A drill takes a human. A disaster takes an Autobot twin."

_65. Do not mention, explain or release any information on the Matrix other than it is an ancient device that is carried by a Prime. Refer all inquiries to myself (Prowl) or Optimus Prime. Do NOT refer them to Ratchet or Ironhide. This is strictly a command issue. _

"Hold still Bumblebee," Ratchet commanded, "this weld has to be perfect. You don't want to fall apart the next time you are trying to protect Sam?"

::I do protect Sam:: Bumblebee

"True. And do not use your vocal processor. Touching the Allspark may have temporarily resealed it. Hold still," he finished the weld, retracting the laser, and then began spraying yellow paint from a finger tip nozzle. "But one battle and it fractured again. The whole unit needs replacing."

::Bumblebus Prime, the silent leader:: he sent with an amused smiley face.

"Bumblebee would work. It is your choice if and when that day comes. We only have one matrix." He inspected the young bots back, matching paint colors and edging before continuing. "Primes are born, not made. But you also have to want the position. More horror than honor. There are several of us here with Prime potential."

Bumblebee pointed over his hand up and over his shoulder at Ratchet.

"I know because it's part of my job to know. Think parts realign themselves? Oh," he noticed Bumblebee pointed at his own chest then at Ratchet's. "Me? No. I'm a medic. Primes have to be a warrior first and make sacrifices. Send their friends out to die. A Matrix would never ask me of that. It knows somehow." He shrugged, using a simple human gesture to bypass the knowledge gap.

::Who else?:: Bumblebee asked, curious and wanting to know more on the subject. It was never openly discussed and he wanted all the information he could.

"Sunstreaker is another no. His sociopathic tendencies, combined with his arrogance and disregard for higher authorities disqualify him. Sideswipe might but the Matrix would know they are a package deal and it would only create conflict." Ratchet finished painting then nodded for 'Bee to set up and shift around.

"Ironhide, Hot Rod and several others carry the base programming but only a Matrix can activate and power it." He rapped Bumblebees' helm with a closed fist and leaned optic to optic. "You could have offline permanently or so low there would have been no distress signal. Humans would have taken you. Whoa, easy youngling."

He hugged the shaking bot, mentally kicking himself. "I know he's still sensitive about being captured and interrogated by Megatron then Sector 7."

Bumblebee vented air then straightened up, regaining his composure. He pulled out of the embrace and Ratchet let him. He pretended to be busy putting medical tools away for a minute.

"Official cover story is you wanted to try a new weapon and it overloaded. Since Prime and I were the only responders no one else knows. Ironhide is waiting outside by the way. Been there since you were brought back. Go relieve the old mech's mind before I break another wrench against his hard head."

Bumblebee whistled, pantomiming a wrench sailing through the air then imitated Ironhide raising a cannon and blowing it up.

"Not in my med bay!" Ratchet snarled, looking fierce until the young bot ran out the door.

EMERGENCY LINK ACTIVATED - PRIORITY TWO

::Help! We got a problem:: Jolt

::Details please. Like when, where, and nature of the emergency?!:: Ratchet

::The twins were creating a new prank when some humans walked into it accidentally. The liaison's covered in glow in the dark paint, two soldiers are trapped up to their hips in armor epoxy and their jeep is now in the ocean. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are gathering the chickens before they reach the airfield. We need your help:: Jolt

::You need reprogramming. I'm coming. Anything else?:: Ratchet

::Watch out for the catapult and no trespassing signs. Touching the signs trigger the clown drone:: Jolt

_63. Do not sneak into drive- in movies_. *Mudflap, Skids, Bumblebee, Jazz and Hound.

It was not a matter of money or even the fun of sneaking in; that was too easy even without using hologram drivers. It was seeing movies the humans would not go to that provoked their curiosity. Skids and Mudflap snuck into a foreign arts film and were weirder than ever.

Bumblebee went next, not sure what a silent movie film fest was. He complained about the lack of sound clips and proceeded to give Sam advice about how to treat Mikeala properly with flowers and rescuing her from train tracks and icebergs.

Jazz watched old westerns, giving him ideas on how to use his wrist grappling hook. Optimus banned him from using western slang after one day. No one commented when Optimus hologram showed up wearing a white cowboy hat and boots. They just seemed to fit.

68. _Do not assume any item is harmless or "idiot proof" in the possession of a fellow Autobot. _*Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, and Blurr.

"Prowl, what are you so uptight about?" Ironhide asked as the black and white state patrol cruiser slid to a stop, transforming, while apparently scanning the hangar intently.

"A pallet of flour was stolen this morning from storage." His optics travelled everywhere, matching probably attack vectors versus logic equations.

"Flour? What are you worried about? Someone baking a cake and throwing it at us?"

"Given a large enough suspension of combustible flour or grain dust in the air, a significant explosion can occur. The web is useful for more than downloading Dirty Harry movies." He finished, transforming back to his alt mode and racing out the door.

Ironhide pointedly ignored the comment; figuring Prowl was developing another logic glitch. "Flour dangerous? Even our resident slagging pranksters couldn't get into trouble using it."

That night he noticed the Twins huddled together over a data pad. 'Prank time.' He thought, unaware both of their feet grips were covered with a fine white powder on bottom. They left out the side door as he began keying Teletran for his nightly conversation with Annabelle.

BOOOMMMM!

With a resounding crack, his cannons blazed to full power as his targeting programs instantly engaged. Running, he joined the other Autobots and humans heading for the beach area. Both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were down, covered in black fine ash. A smoking pit lay between them.

::Report!:: Optimus

::Unknown attack. Twins are down but online. No sign of Decepticon seekers:: Ironhide reported, spinning in place, looking for the target to blow away. None appeared and it was Major Lennox who figured out what happened.

"Grain silos can blow if the dust and ignition mix is right. My family was always careful but neighbor up the road lost his side barn that way in my grandfather's time. Made the local paper even." He said.

The twins confessed to borrowing, not stealing, as they would pay for the flour, intending to cover the beach with a fine layer to represent winter time. From there they claimed memory circuits were fuzzy, not that Optimus or Prowl believed the excuse. Their punishment was four days in the brig, watching human cooking shows. Flour and other grains were added to the hazardous materials list and Prowl dutifully added another rule.

_77. Do not believe what humans tell you in regards to medical conditions or cross species contaminations. Consult an Autobot medic. _

Ratchet continued his raving, pacing back and forth in front of Optimus' desk. "They had Jolt convinced that road rash was a medical condition. Arcee believed she had asphalt pox when they were repaving the runway. Little pieces of tar were spread everywhere and her tri cycle components picked it up. Ironhide was ready to blast every piece of paving machinery to protect the femmes, especially Chromia." He continued onward for another breem as Optimus sat still, nodding occasionally.

'I wonder if all medics take a course in ranting and raving to their commanding officers,' he thought, while relaying a list of human names involved to Major Lennox's e-mail for him to deal with.

"And worse, they had half of us believing four leaf clovers were preventative for freeway clover jam syndrome! Wheeljack breed a greenhouse full of those plants! There is no such syndrome. Traffic is bad on freeway clover leafs because of humans using their cars, not a disease!" He continued pacing and raving, not noticing Optimus slip his left hand under the desk and open a wrist slot, dropping four leaf clovers into the trash can.


	16. Chapter 16

Author's Notes: Glad everyone enjoys this fic. Thank you for reading it, reviewing it, quoting it, voting on who is in it and more. Work was long and boring, my beta reader quit for awhile and I am buried in chores at home. Diego Garcia sounds like fun about now, twins and all.

The poll in my profile shows 1st - Starscream, Fallen, Megatron, Barricade, Frenzy in the lead. Five way tie between 2nd - Optimus Prime, Ultra Magnus and Prowl; 2nd - The twins; 2nd - Sam, Mikeala, Wheelie and Bumblebee; 2nd - Aerialbots; and the 2nd - Dinobots. If you have a specific character you absolutely adore, drop me an e-mail. No promises or guarantees but you never know who will get in trouble and show up in the rules. Onward to a cooler view.

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60_. Do not adjust, enhance or repair any human's vehicle or components thereof. _*Wheeljack, Twins, and Red Alert.

"Is this heat ever going to break?" Epps moaned, wiping his brow with a damp rag as they walked across the tarmac. "Fifteen days of over a hundred degrees. It's already hot and it's only nine am."

"Not for awhile. It's the middle of August dude." Major Lennox said. His uniform was undone at the neck and sweat stains marred the front and back. "Could be worse. The new budget auditor is from Colorado. Gets heat sick apparently. Almost makes you pity him."

"Almost. Man was griping about not using pencils until they were short stubs, or writing on both sides of a piece of paper, and then he went ballistic finding a tube of toothpaste that wasn't completely used in the trash. Does anything make him happy?" Epps said.

"Cold does. Too bad the air conditioning on his car quit. He drives a 1995 Ford Fiesta. Can't even find refuge there." Lennox commented.

Neither realized the Autobot scientist Wheeljack could hear them. Granted he was four buildings away but alien robot hearing was very acute. Especially his. How else to recognize that quiet hissing ticking sound the second before a project blew up? He accessed the internet, looking for information on cars air conditioning systems. "Primitive but if that is what is required," he rubbed his battle mask, formulating a system reworking before going to locate the auditor's car.

That afternoon, the auditor returned to his car to retrieve a file from the back seat. As he was shutting the door, the note on the steering wheel fluttered. "Your air conditioning is fixed. A friend. WJ" was printed in block letters. Eyebrows rose in disbelief but hopeful, he dug out his keys and turned the car on. Counting to ten, he turned the interior controls to air conditioning, low cool, low blower. Cool, crisp air flowed across his face. Nearly weeping, he closed his eyes, savoring every degree. "I am so cancelling the meeting this afternoon. Oops, forgot my cell phone inside." Beaming, he turned the button to the far right, maximum cool and maximum blower before going back inside.

"My car," he gasped a few minutes later. From the front dash back it was encased in pure clear ice, flowing out the windows onto the surrounding parking spaces. The front of the car was frosted white, hiding the Ford symbol on its grill.

Wheeljack looked up and over the nearby facilities building in dismay. He had intended to help the man keep cool to help his NEST friends. "This wasn't suppose to happen. It should have cooled not froze. A miscalculation occurred."

CRACK CRACK CRACKLE PHUMP TINK TINK TINK

The Autobot scientist winced as the ice pieces continued to fall and bounce. The auditor had tapped on the side of his car and it had shattered like glass.

::Optimus, what is the number of that car dealership again? The one we have a contract with. I need to place an order::Wheeljack

::What happened and to who?:: Optimus

::This:: Wheeljack answered, sending a data packet with the full set of events. ::I only wanted to help::

The auditor got an apology, an official tour of Wheeljack's shop and explanation of why his air conditioning was reset. It was the 2009 silver blue Porsche Boxster convertible delivered to his quarters that delighted him the most. Reports were filed and NEST was surprised to find a great score and positive comments had been recorded. A personal thank you to Wheeljack was sent privately. He committed it to memory then proudly framed it as a reminder that not all his projects ended badly. It stayed on the wall above his work space until it was atomized in the next lab explosion.

64._ Do not reveal our existence in any matter before humans and especially when cameras or other digital media are present._ *Jazz and Ironhide

The intelligence division warned a film crew would be in the area for a few days. An abandoned warehouse would be leveled for filming. Optimus and Prowl strictly ordered all the Autobots to stay on base or out of the area. Jazz and Ironhide snuck out, risking brig time when they found it was a battling robots fantasy based on the events in Mission City and Shanghai. They found the movie set, disappointed as everything was swabbed in green screens and plastic figures of giant robots that neither moved nor spoke.

"Any action going to happen or is everything computerized later?" Ironhide grumbled.

"Let's see." Jazz said, hacking into their laptops, pulling the schedule. "Big blast is tomorrow at 10 am. Big black robot and little silver sidekick. Wanna check it out man?"

High overhead, Decepticon seeker Skywarp recorded their Cybertronic signatures and monitoring their conversation, relaying the information to Soundwave to forward to Megatron. Instructions came back to monitor and be prepared to attack the next day. He watched as the film crew finished and left for the night. Both Autobots entered the warehouse, leaving digital signatures everywhere on the upper level before returning to Diego Garcia. Skywarp soared away before he could be detected.

Optimus caught both bots as they rolled back onto base. They were confined to the brig for the rest of the week but begged permission to watch the explosion. Optimus relented for that one event, provided they watched from a distance. Neither had protested, fearing what would have happened if he found out they supplemented the movie set explosives with plasma grenades. At ten am the next morning, Megatron, Starscream and Skywarp crashed in through the warehouse roof, weapons hot. Two plastic figures, one big and black and one small and silver stood behind the partition.

"I am Megatron. You will not escape…" he trailed off as a high pitched horn sounded and the counting began. 5...4...3...2..."oh pit."

**BOOM!**

Three charred Decepticon shapes were thrown over a mile upriver. Climbing out, they crawled behind the nearest storage center. They turned to look back, as the massive column of fire and smoke rose in the sky, visible for miles.

"Those bots are crazy!" Starscream whined, bending a wing tip back out.

"They self-detonated!" Skyward moaned, holding his severed arm in his left hand. "How are we suppose to fight that?"

"You fail me yet again." Megatron threatened before transforming and rocketing straight up. He had aimed to head out over the city, but compensators were broke, sending him straight up, flipping ungracefully end over end. Both Decepticons looked at each other then upward and followed, trying to catch him.

"Wow! That tops your cannons!" Jazz cheered while staying hidden in his alt mode on the nearby by rooftop parking garage.

"Cannons yes. But my babies fire over and over. Let's go. The brig is waiting."

The explosion made the national news. Then the director was caught in a drunk driving scandal with a teenage girl and the movie was shelved, its funding cut. The existing film reels were confiscated by NEST operatives and stored in a vault. Not because of a potential public relations threat, oh no. The plot was terrible, the action sequences were full of credibility holes, and the acting was shallow, and the dialogue dry and filled with crude humor. Only the explosion was worth replaying and no one ever noticed the three smoking shapes in the far background of the film.

67. _Do not turn fellow Autobots into human toys._ *Ironhide, Sunstreaker, and Sideswipe.

Ironhide snarled, wanting to blow anything anywhere to bits and couldn't. Both of his cannons were still uploading the latest program codes, locked in Ratchet's office. "Miserable rotten core chewing medic! Deprives me of them now! How cruel can Primus be?" He paced in the hallway by the office, tempted to break in and take the brig time he had been threatened with.

Two familiar mini cars blew by the outside windows yet again. "Skids, Mudflap, slow down!" Prowl's voice carried over the tarmac. He limped into view, one leg still in the traction splint. Ironhide felt sorry for him, having to watch those two little monsters run circles around him, literally.

"I'd blast them both into bits! But no, I'm missing my best and greatest . Might as well throw children's toys! Nah, Annabelle would miss them." He softened, thinking of the little human girl that was like his own sparkling. She loved her toys. The little bot bunny, the sand castle, and the dollhouse built like a mini Autobot base. His processors focused on her toy box then he gasped, getting an idea. Running for the supply shed, he commed Prowl with the idea.

Two breems later, Optimus Prime watched the jets soar off, wishing the Aerialbots luck on their scouting mission. Heavy treads sounds behind him as his fellow Autobots neared. Turning, he paused, not sure what his optics were recording. Ironhide and Prowl were both spinning something up and down on cables that were wrapped around one of their hands. The ball shaped objects were green and orange, secured with medical metal binding gauze.

"What are those?" Optimus asked.

"Yo-yo's Prime. Yo-yos." Ironhide answered.

78._ Do not attack, antagonize or humiliate Decepticons at the request of NEST personnel or in retaliation for their injuries. _*Ironhide, Aerialbots, Brawn and Arcee, Chromia and Flareup.

Prowl regarded the reports in front of him with a feeling akin to parental dismay. Unhappy at what the Autobots under his command and done; while delighted at their creativity and self restraint when it could have deteriorated in primitive violence.

"Prime will not like this. He has a strict rule about not attacking, provoking or engaging enemy forces with provocation or when opportunity alone occurs."

Incident #1 - Gluing antler horns, spray painting Decepticon tracker Ravage brown, then disabling all weapons systems and directional tracking sensors. He was released into a forest area during the first day of hunting season. _*Ravage destroyed during Egypt battle - problem solved. _

Incident # 2 - Aerialbots discovered Starscream in his raptor jet alt mode and in deep recharge, recovering with injuries sustained in last confrontation. Air Raid and Slingshot stunned him while Fireflight forced a transform alteration to Starscream's protoform. Silverbolt and Skydive flew the Decepticon to the local air show, releasing him. New alt was a read bi-wing plane dubbed the red Baron. Other air show aircraft fired on him during exhibition. *_Show was a "hit" with human audiences and ticket money went to children's charity. _

Incident # 3_ -_ Barricade and Skywarp versus Hound and Bumblebee. Both scouts handled themselves well. Skywarp had crashed a short distance away when Hound created a specific hologram and Bumblebee planted the projector and a mini time delay bomb on Barricade.

"You little bug! I'm going to crush you!" Barricade yelled then half screamed as the mini bomb went off. His vocal processor sputtered once then crumbled into pieces. The scream was never finished. And that was the instant the hologram transmitter kicked on.

"Barricade? Barricade you moron! Where are…Prowl. I know that shape anywhere." Skywarp snarled, raising both arm cannons as he rounded a corner then stopped as the femme turned. Femme? He did a double take, seeing the familiar black and white state patrol armor of the Autobot strategist. Only the hips were curved inward at the top, the legs shaped and the upper chest was shaped too. The femme gestured but no sound came out.

Skywarp lowered both cannons, approaching slowly. "Aren't you a sight. Let all alone huh? Too bad." The femme reached up and slapped him alongside the head plates. He grabbed both her arms, pinning her against the building. "Like to play rough huh?" he leaned in close, as the hologram transmitter stopped.

ARRGGHHHHHHH!

Incident # 4 - Human hostages held by Decepticon seeker Thundercracker. Ultra Magnus agreed not to shoot seeker if he released hostages. They were allowed to run away.

Magnus grinned behind his battle mask, raising his power rifle and fired all around the Decepticon, into the brick wall behind.

"You missed foolish Autobot. Keeping your word." He sneered, aiming his weapons.

"I didn't miss."

The brick wall collapsed forward at that point, its metal supports holed by weapons fire. With a rattling, the entire three story structure collapsed onto Thundercracker, burying him under rubble. _*Building was condemned and schedule for destruction shortly. Saved humans time and money._

Optimus read Prowl's report, and reported to Ratchet later that same day. He had laughed so hard, he had fallen out of his chair and cracked a support strut. Unable to focus on a suitable reprimand, he copied a section of the humans Geneva convention regarding proper behavior and importance in maintaining the dignity of enemies and e-mailed it out.


	17. Chapter 17

Author's Notes: Yes, I like to write humor. And it's harder than you think. Only two rules tonight. On details, my bad. The bi-wing plane was a total guess. Yes, I knew yo yo's were originally weapons. Couple more sketches are mentioned and no, they don't exist. I couldn't draw them but if someone can, go for it.

A little suspense with a long sequence between but nothing too bad happens. I was in an adventure mood. And I do get some say in who and what the in between stuff is about. So more Sam, Mikeala and Bumblebee. And the reviews will be interesting. The poll winners have changed yet again. Now Prime, Ultra Magnus and Prowl lead. More chapters coming with them as well as Blurr and Cliffjumper.

I do not own Transformers only get to write about them here thanks to the kindness of fan fiction. Upward and onward to entertaining.

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Prowl opened the secret compartment on his office desk, adding more sketches. He reviewed them, grinning before hiding them away. He did have an image to maintain after all. The new one of Prime was his favorite. Optimus had been drawn from the shoulders up, his laser rifle pointing up on his left and wearing dark sunglasses above his battle mask. "You won't be back," was printed underneath in bold letters. A quick internet search had defined Terminator and the joke.

Next sketch was Bumblebee flattened against the grill of Optimus alt truck form. "Sorry, the twins distracted me," was written across that one. Prowl shook his head side to side, copying the no movement of humans. "Too warped. And that bug joke is so overdone. Shred and recycle. Save a tree."

"Wish I knew who did these. Major Lennox keeps retrieving them for me to handle. I would like to talk to the artist." Carefully, he unfolded the next one, Ironhide drawn with three metal claws, pointed head piece and the words, "Time to offline bub," underneath. "Wolverine of the X-men. Nope, not keeping." It went into the shredder. More followed, only two others were saved.

::Prowl, are you busy? We may have a situation:: Ratchet

:Let me guess. Twin trouble? Wheeljack blew his lab again? The current liaison is missing his car? Or this involves Annabelle Lennox?:: Prowl

::None of the above. Bumblebee, with Sam and Mikeala are late. They were due over an hour ago:: Ratchet

::Pull his tracker signal:: Prowl

::I did. It's offline. He's not answering comms either. We are about to go looking for his last known position:: Ratchet

::On my way:: Prowl answered, running for the door, flipping through the air and transforming. Every scenario ran through his battle core scared his processor. Too much depended on those three.

_60. When a human asks, 'what's the battle plan' do not answer:_

_a. Why? You know something I don't? _

_b. Do you have clearance from Cybertron command? Takes 2 vorns or 164 years to complete the forms and get approval. You better start now. _

_c. Turn your optics red, unsubspace both swords, slam them into the ground on either side of the person asking and growl. *Sideswipe_

_d. Smile and say 'go ask my twin. He has a better answer.' Then video record what happens when he's asked. *Sunstreaker_

_e. Don't get offlined. The rest is minor details. _

_f. Cut back on soda pop and other sugary drinks, no fried foods and work out more. Oh, I thought you were talking about dealing with your weight chubby. *Arcee, Chromia and Flareup._

_g. Shoot, shoot, and shoot some more making sure not to miss. *Ironhide_

_h. Why ask me? I'm a medic not a strategist. I'm the one stuck repairing all the messes. *Ratchet_

_i. Our response will be on a sliding scale. The more Decepticons that attack, the more we send them sliding into the pit. *Brawn, Cliffjumper and Trailbreaker._

_j. I'm just a soldier. Ask my brother, he's the Prime. *Ultra Magnus_

_k. Run away? No, wait. That's what you do when the plan fails. _

_l. Use plans A - R. Why stop there? If you go through 18 plans and haven't won, then S stands for screwed!_

_m. Send a memo to the Decepticons, await their scheduling response, agree to both meet, discuss which committee has the weapons….I am being serious. That's how you humans plan it! _

AUTOBOT EMERGENCY FREQUENCY ALL SEND / RECEIVE

:: Bumblebee's tracker just activated. He is returning to base, reports minor malfunction with systems. Comm is fading in and out. All three are functional. I repeat, all three are functional:: Prowl announced.

The assembled Autobots relaxed, stopping their preparations to go and search for them.

Three breems later, the door to med bay slid open. "You ever turn off your tracker or comms again," Ratchet began, looking over at Bumblebee. "You will live in my med bay. After Optimus gets a hold of you, then Ironhide then me."

The little yellow bot held up his right arm, the wrist clearly broke and hanging at an odd angle.

::Stripped a gear. My nannites can't fix it:: Bumblebee sent, knowing better than to use his damaged voice capacitor. The repair and do no further harm core systems of the medic activated, after his protective systems went into overdrive at seeing the damage.

"Nannites," Ratchet reminded with a warning tone to his vocals, "repair minor damage like dings or dents. Not major wiring, gears, sensor relays or spark casings." He lifted the bot up to the examination table, running scans as he continued. "Not that you hard heads ever think of that before getting yourselves shot up and nearly slagged." He cursed, perceiving more damage than a striped gear. Sensors identified the contamination of explosives on the wound edge. Human explosives. "This is battle damage."

Bumblebee ducked his head, hiding his optics. His vents flared slightly as his internal systems heated with embarrassment.

"What happened youngling? Don't lie to me. I'll rip out your memory core and replay whatever happened on the wall. " Ratchet threatened. Internally his processors were tightening. 'Mikeala goes Sam goes. Or Sam goes and Bumblebee goes and that affects us and Optimus and Ironhide would be devastated and that effects all of us.' Belatedly, he realized Bumblebee was watching him, nervous at the play of expressions across his face plates.

Ratchet deliberately smiled. "I repair what I know. It's easier you tell me than I go digging. And I can ease the pain faster."

::Pain sensors are disabled. Didn't want Sam and Mikeala to worry:: Bumblebee

"Disabled?! How the frag did you know to…Ironhide." His optics narrowed, specs of red fading in and out. "Pain prevents further injury. And what happened? Last time I ask."

Sheepishly, the youngling told the story as repairs began. Command needed a box picked up from the post office box the Autobots shared. It was on the way so the three of them decided to swing by, even though it was getting late. Mikeala had spotted the violent gang graffiti on the surrounding streets.

"We get it and go." Sam said, not worried. "'Bee can handle anything. Even this bad neighborhood. Ouch!"

Mikeala punched his arm. "I was there remember? Get in the car? I did. And I still have sand in my boots from Egypt." She grinned as the car around them rocked, a sign of robot laughter.

They were the only vehicle in the parking lot at the post office. Sam ran in, opening the postal slot when the other cars pulled into the lot alongside, on the left. Street racers painted in all colors but the drivers who got out were clearly gang members, tattooed and foul mouthed. Mikeala turned, watching more cars like the first pull into the other open space, a park and playground, on their right. Those drivers got out, weapons clearly displayed on their persons.

"Sam , please hurry," She breathed, then Bumblebee jumped ahead, still in alt form as the gunfire started. He slid sideways, throwing Mikeala out towards the front door as Sam had started out. They collided, falling backwards as Bumblebee transformed, snapping his battle mask into place. His sensors detected weapons she hadn't seen, ones that would be used before he could get his friends clear. And how far would the violence spread? People, families with children lived in the nearby buildings. A single miss and innocents would be hurt.

The gunfire continued as the teens got back on their feet, gasping as a rocket went from one side to the other, destroying a car. Bumblebee narrowed in on the weapon, using a laser to burn through the side of it. Then repeated it on the other side's weapon. Shocked, the gangs began backing up then everyone looked up the street as police sirens blared. In less than a minute, they were gone.

"Bee, let's go!" Sam yelled, wrapping his arm around her. But the bot ran forward, grabbing a metal box, throwing it into the air, lasering it into pieces. He grabbed the second one as it exploded. Mikeala screamed then ran forward as the smoke cleared, showing the bot still standing there, holding his right hand.

"I'm…ooo….ay." His vocal processor ground out. Transforming back into Camaro form, he drove towards the teens.

"I'm still here waiting for you," song snippet played. They got in as the police sirens got louder. Peeling out, Bumblebee drove the opposite direction of the racers. He linked into the local police computers, uploading the battle and every image of the cars involved, their license plates, weapons detected, and very good images of every driver. His two humans and his part were left out.

Ratchet didn't move as he finished. "You should have fled. Your armor would have absorbed the impact in alt form. Not exposing the more valuable protoform below."

::How is … Bumblebee?:: Optimus commed in.

::Fine. He's a good bot. Minor surge knocked out comms:: Ratchet

::I was...concerned. He dropped off Sam and Mikeala and headed straight for med bay:: Optimus

::No comms, no communication. And he knows better than to talk. Unless you are good at charades? Almost done. I'll send him there shortly:: Ratchet sent, letting the young bot in front of him listen in.

"Where would I be without you," song snippet played.

The medic leaned close, optic to optic. "You ever do this again and there will not be enough left to send to the matrix. Understand, I'll cover your aft this once. But I will also be the first to kick it into orbit next time. Now go. Before certain mechs have a spark attack and they ruin my afternoon. I have work to do." He watched the youngling leave, ready to have his own breakdown. "Okay Primus, I owe you this one."

_109. Do not teach humans our beliefs, prayers or practices without clearing it first with a Prime or medical officer. *Ironhide, Bumblebee and Hound._

William Lennox pulled the covers up around his daughter, tucking her in for the night. He automatically checked that the boo boo bot bunny was on her nightstand monitoring her vitals. The mini teletran was on standby, ready for any transmission. The GWPS, galaxy wide positioning system tracker hid in her Autobot symbol necklace lay in its recharge box. 'Kid has more sophisticated electronics on her nightstand than most third world countries.' he realized.

"Did you have fun on the base today sweetie? Sorry I was busy with meetings all day," He said.

"Uh huh," the little girl smiled. "I drove and only hit nine cones and one brick wall this time. Ironhide blew up stuff just for me on the practice range and Ratchet taught me how to throw better. I still miss a lot though." she confessed, yawning and missing her dad's expression. "Oh! I forget to say my prayers."

"Say them now while I turn out the lights. If you need me, just yell." A quick kiss on her forehead, and he left, closing the door almost all the way, leaning against it to listen secretly. Her voice was soft, and intense with emotion, but it was the words his eyes widened at.

"Help me to be a good bot, wise and kind. Keep my spark bright and my programming pure. Help me to restrain from violence and waste to remember hope and live in times of peace. Let me not forget that my enemies were once my brothers. Keep me from the pit. When my optics dim and my spark fades, may I merge with the matrix and those who have gone before. Until all are one."


	18. Chapter 18

Author's Notes: Thank you for adding this fic to your favorites, chapter updates to your alerts and reviewing what you liked or loved or didn't. Tonight's rules have more human interaction and one has a distinctive Halloween eerie feel to it but ends good. My plug for safe driving.

Thanks to Karategal from 'Youngling' and 'Little Brother,' (always fast to answer my e-mails too ); lady tecuma from 'Sparks and Plasma,' and Litahatchee from 'Night Fire for inspiring parts of the story arc.

I do not own Transformers, none of us here do or we would not be fan fiction writers but millionaires. Hasbro, Paramount, and whomever they signed contracts with do. We get to borrow them, add our own ideas and fan fiction allows us to post them. Onward to green glowing lights and funky holograms.

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_69. Do not plot, plan or sneak a tactical solution with humans without consulting or at least informing command officers, especially those involved in said plan whether they know it or not. *Hound, Skids, Mudflap, Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker._

_70. Do not joke, insinuate or contemplate interspecies marriages between humans and Autobots unless truly serious. *Hound, Skids, Mudflap, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker or any other unmated mech._

The liaison really should have paid more attention to who was in the Autobot hangar that morning, but he did not. His entire focus was on the new proposal and the fact Optimus Prime and other command officers were out in the field. Only Prowl was there and his reputation as being a logical thinker who consulted his boss would work in the governments favor. The Autobots gathered all had one thing in common though he couldn't have realized the fact. They were all mechs, not one femme, and all without a spark mate. And the humans were all dressed in NEST uniforms and authorized clearance levels. Except most of them were women. While a small part of the armed forces and the Diego Garcia base, there were a disproportionate number of them there.

"You have no ties to this planet. What guarantee do we have you will continue to remain peaceful and cooperate? " He began.

"Our human friends live here. Sam, Mikeala, Ron and Judy Witwicky, Miles, and the NEST soldiers." Prowl pointed out logically.

"And what happens when they die? You pick new humans to tag along with or their kids? You don't risk your families in these battles. We do. You don't lose wives or children or have permanent residences here."

"Your own treaty forbids us to own property. What would you suggest? Interspecies marriage?" Hound asked, one green stubbed metal finger pointing at the liaison.

"Don't be ridiculous," the human scoffed.

"No, that's actually not a bad idea," Major William Lennox commented thoughtfully. He looked over at Captain Epps and his second in command. They both nodded in agreement.

"I call dibbs on Hound." A female's voice rang out in the sudden silence.

"Who said that?" The liaison snapped.

"Me sir. Captain Jorgensen, special ops. I would take Hound, that is, if he will have me." She moved to stand beside the tall green mech.

"It would be my honor to spend my existence with you," he said, looking directly at her as he knelt on one knee.

The liaison sputtered, getting red in the face. "That's not funny."

"We're not kidding." The female Captain answered, never looking away from Hound's optics.

The other women there each called out a bots' name, moving to stand beside them. Gasping in shock, the government official watched as each mech knelt or sat by a human female. Even Skids and Mudflap had a protective arm around one.

"What, why would you even?" He ground out.

"Because there's more to life than sex sir. They won't pick another woman." Jorgenson answered first.

"Totally faithful as long as we live. Thousands of years from now they will be alive and remember what we had," the blonde Lieutenant added.

"Perfect data retrieval. No forgetting a birthday or anniversary. And when you tell them something, they listen or ask for clarification. No getting ugly, unwanted presents from them." the brunette communications officer said, leaning against Sideswipe's leg.

"And they are so gorgeous. And they will stay that way! No getting bald or fat or lazy." Sunstreaker's female said, running a hand up his yellow bonded metal leg.

A sudden audible click click sound and Prowl went over backwards, stiff as a board, temporarily offlined by his logic glitch.

::Didn't anyone tell him about the plan?:: Hound

::I thought you did:: Sideswipe

::Should we have?:: Sunstreaker

The discussion among the females continued. Plans were sketched out for a group wedding, cheaper and easier so everybody could attend. Vows would be in both English and Cybertronian, no tuxedos for the mechs but long, flowing veils for the brides headpieces and garter belts would be a problem. So metal belts around the waist, and on they chattered, ignoring the red faced official.

"I'm free Saturday. Anyone else have a problem with then?" Captain Jorgenson asked.

"I have a big &*($ problem!" The man swore. "This is a discussion on loyalties not the spring bridal show! My department, my agency will hear about this! And Optimus and whoever else I have to….to…..to stop this madness!" He raged, grabbing his briefcase savagely, stomping for the door. The minute he exited laughter broke out everywhere.

"I can't believe he fell for that!" Hound laughed, bringing Prowl back online.

"Serves him right," Major Lennox gasped out, nearly bent double with laughter.

"Leaves his notes out for any idiot to see then wonders why they don't succeed." Jorgensen said, giggling like a little girl. "Loyalties my aft. Let him explain this one."

_75. Do not use holograms to portray famous humans who have offlined from previous historical time periods, are stuck in any transposed state or offlined in any visibly deceased manner. _

"Holographic drivers will help keep our secret," Prowl muttered, reviewing all the other rules already in place regarding the use of holograms. "Be wise to utilize Optimus said. Easy to adjust their appearance Hound said. Hah! Tell that to those twins, either set. And Ultra Magnus, he is too advanced and without excuse."

The green mustang ripped down the rural road, flinging out a beer bottle, never seeing it land and smash in front of the white, blue and red car carrier parked on the side of the road. That engine roared to life, and it pulled out faster than any human vehicle that size should have been able to, narrowing its target sensors on the mustang ahead. The teens inside paid little attention to the lights in the rear view mirror. Yelling, drinking, passing plastic bags of pills around, they were partying late night. The driver never saw the EMP pulse that hit their back bumper, affecting the entire car. The engine sputtered and died as the lights went out, both theirs and the vehicle following.

"Ah man. You out of gas?" the front passenger asked, leaning over to look at the gas gauge.

"Nah. I can't see for sure. Hold that light here." He said then realized none of them held a flashlight. The glowing green light got brighter. They looked, mouths open as a ghostly car carrier pulled up alongside. The back was filled with wrecked cars, of all eras. The driver door opened, and an old man in a glowing green coverall hopped down and approached. He looked them over, and then appeared to consult a clipboard.

"Hmm, sorry. I'm a bit early." He shrugged, his long white hair and beard moving in the breeze.

"Early for?" The passenger asked, leaning away from the stranger by his window.

"You don't crash and die for another two miles down the road. I get the car. You die quick though. Go back the way you came, awful death by burning alive. Take the side road and ouch! Lots of pieces, slow death, animal bites my my what a way to pass. Any direction you continue to drive works with me. I would suggest straight ahead. Least painful." The man began walking back towards his truck when he stopped. He turned to look over his shoulder; the green glow pulsed outward from him then went white as he turned into a half-rotted skeleton. "Be seeing you, or rather that car."

"ARRRGRGGHHHHH!" Five human voices screamed.

The skeleton passed through the driver door and disappeared as the car carrier of wrecked cars rolled down the road by itself. The teens jumped out of the mustang, scattering in all directions.

"What you doing Freddie?" The driver asked, on all fours and panting with fear.

"Calling my mom! I ain't going nowhere with you all!"

"You can't get a signal here!" The other boy whined but moved closer towards him.

"Full strength!" He dialed, praying for someone, anyone to pick up.

"Your mom and mine are going to kill us." The driver whined.

"So? She ground me forever I live forever. Mom? Hello Mom? I need you please!" He began crying, explaining they needed a ride and now.

Up the road, a very tall very large alien robot watched over the tree tops. He boosted the signal, ensuring it could reach anywhere on the planet without interruption or interference. He waited, making sure the car never moved and the teens were rescued by the parental units before continuing on his way.

_76. Do not change holographic drivers to non-human forms for any purpose or situation previously not approved, especially to provoke reactions from human drivers. _

Fingers tapped the edge of the datapad as the processor they responded to contemplated the latest list of infractions. "I don't believe this. How many ways can they do this to me?" Prowl asked.

"Hound's driver was a giant gold snail, asking for directions to the local post office."

"Jazz changed his driver to a German shepherd dog when pulling up next to the county animal pound transport. Asked directions to the nearest pet store for his flea problem, pretending to scratch the entire time."

"Even Ratchet got in on it. His was a polar bear wearing sunglasses and a tank top asking how to get to the beach."

"Bad enough they do it on the roads but in the air too? Fireflight changes his pilot, being an Aerialbot, to a grey stick figure thin creature with enormous eyes and flies alongside a sightseeing helicopter, asking "Which way to the Pentagon? I need my other ship back." Reckless and disregard for the rules of air traffic safety. Almost like it was a game to one up each other." He theorized then paused, with a groan as he realized that was what they had been doing.

:Optimus, we have an ongoing prank that has the potential to exceed normal safety boundaries:: Prowl

::Not now unless it's an emergency, I have…a situation I need to deal with:: Optimus

::Do you need assistance?:: Prowl

::Negative. I'll keep all comm lines on standby until further notification:: Optimus answered, blue optics focused on the gathered bots in the main hangar. Bumblebee was playing a charades game with the other bots about his size. Making a decision, the last Prime and leader of the Autobots, victor over the Fallen, gathered his courage and approached the youngling.

"Ohh, another movie one." Skids encouraged, jumping his green form up and down.

"Bumblebee, I need to talk to you." Optimus interrupted, engaging every stillness motion protocol he had to keep from appearing nervous. The little bot tilted up at him, whistling and nodding.

"I'm your father." Optimus blurted out, then froze, wanting to go offline right then and there. They all looked at him then clapped as Bumblebee began playing the Star Wars theme.

"Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker," Mudflap said, "Second movie."

"Good job Prime." Jazz waved, "Didn't know you were into human pop culture."

"Fifth movie dud head!" Skids corrected. "Second was Attack of the Clones." They began arguing about which set was first and fought, rolling around the hangar.

"We need to talk. Now," Without an explanation, Optimus strode out of the hangar with Bumblebee.

"I don't know that movie." Jazz pondered.

They headed for the far research hangar. It was kept empty for conferences that required the Autobots in their mech form and when Wheeljack needed a larger space than his lab.

::Am I in trouble?:: Bumblebee

::No:: Optimus answered then remained quiet. Opening the hangar door remotely, he slid in sideways, then stopped, wondering how to begin. The doors slid back shut and the windows darkened to prevent views inside as sensors detected them, turning on overhead lights.

'I am not made for this,' Optimus thought as he awkwardly sat down, folding long blue legs as best he could to reduce the height difference. 'Thousands of years of battlefield planning and strategy and I don't even know where to begin.' He motioned Bumblebee to come closer but to stay standing.

"On Cybertron, in our past, the war was lasting longer than we thought possible, even endangering our existence as energon started waning. The Autobots were united under those of us who were Primes. Then the other Prime was killed, his matrix lost. The two of us remaining planned best we could. He led an attack and never returned. Not even his protoform shell was found. What happened next affected everything."

_To be continued…_


	19. Chapter 19 Femmes and History

**Chapter 19: Chapter 19 Femmes and History**

Author's Notes: Thanks for reading and reviewing. Couldn't do it without all of you. I added two more OAC - Original Autobot Characters. I wanted to stick with canon characters but no bot out of ancient Cybertronian history fit what was needed. Feel free to use their names and history elsewhere. E-mail me if you do, so I can read the fic please. Always willing to share. And I do not own Transformers, none of us writers here do. Paramount, Hasbro and others own the ideas, concepts and characters.

Sorry, part 2 of Optimus and Bumblebee is not ready yet. Still working on it. Rules below are from an Autobot POV and I am female. Keep that in mind with tonight's Rule 71. I know, only two rules and short but enjoy anyways. Onward to the usual dose of cuteness, twin problems and picking on a liaison. They are such easy targets.

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61._ Do not participate, purchase or assist in human fund raising, charity drives, or similar. A designated fund exists. Submit appropriate requests to a command officer. _

Prowl paused, "I should add 'and Annabelle Lennox is not an exception to this rule. No matter how much you threaten or beg.' Negative. Rules should be clear, concise and not show partiality to any one being, of any race." His optics strayed towards his work pile, focusing on the drawing posted on the side of the 'in box.' Drawn in crayon, there was a little human girl with blonde hair and the general shapes of several mechs, including a certain black and white second in command officer. 'My big family,' was printed underneath in both English and Cybertronian. It was her way of saying thank you for events the month before.

"Ironhide, do you read magazines?" Annabelle asked, after hugging him in greeting, having just arrived on base.

"I can read in several languages. But magazines are too flimsy,' he tapped his massively thick fingers together then made a tearing apart motion. "The data contained inside is not relevant. Why?" The heavy black mech asked, not seeing a reason for that subject to come up.

"Her school is having a fund drive. They sell magazine subscriptions and the profits are donated to the food bank. It's a human thing, and ends soon." Major Lennox explained for his daughter, dropping her backpack, overnight bag and coat onto a chair.

"The one who sells the most gets a pizza party with all their friends." she added, stuffing the subscription school form down into her pink backpack. "Daddy says I get to play with you today. Can we blow up something big this time?"

"Only for you," Ironhide said, lowering his hand for her to climb up onto. He ignored her father's look, thinking and planning, heading for the practice range. 'I need to talk to Chromia about a sparkling. Annabelle would love a friend her age and size. And after this human and Bumblebee, I can handle anything. How difficult could one of my own be?'

Captain Epps saw the paper sticking out of the backpack and pulled it out, curious as ever. He read it, seeing more magazine titles were available online. While scrolling down through the website, the rest of his team had wandered in, surprised to see him on the computer and not gaming. A quick explanation and they all began picking out issues. Titles like _Modern Military, Civil War History, Guns for Law Enforcement, SWAT Team Express_ and more filled the order form. It was a foregone conclusion the Autobots would want to help. Wheeljack hacked the mainframe, retrieving the account number for the designated charity fund. The money was from all the devices reverse engineered from Megatron while he had been under capture by Sector 7.

"Logical it goes to help humans," Hound reasoned while choosing _Nature and Wildlife_, _Exploring Nature_, and _Backroad Journeys_.

"And we can keep up on the latest car concepts for our alt forms." Sideswipe added, ignoring his twins snort.

"Blend in with style," was Jazz's opinion. Their orders included _Car and Driver, Hot Rod and Custom, _and_ Cars of Tomorrow._

"I'm adding _Advanced Engineering, _plus_ Space Exploration for Tomorrow_." Wheeljack said, and then noticed their looks. "I need a good laugh when I'm recovering in med bay."

Annabelle won first place, setting a record for orders, the NEST soldiers having called their family and friends as well as notifying related military personnel on other bases. The local newspaper and school were disappointed when her parents flat refused any mention of her win to be released. She was given the certificate for the pizza party and promptly turned it over to the local homeless shelter.

Optimus was pleased with her decision. He had spent another long week reasoning with government agencies and officials over not releasing advance weapons designs and fighting technology. "Why did you choose that course of action?"

"They don't get pizza, it's a treat. And I had mommy call the pizza place. They didn't have what I wanted."

"Pepperoni and pineapple with tomatoes?" Ironhide said, knowing her favorite type of pizza. The little girl laughed, as if the answer should have been obvious.

"No silly. Energon! That wasn't one of their toppings. So I couldn't share with all of you."

71_. Do not inquire, challenge or openly criticize the role of human females in the military. It is an earth rule and Autobot command will ensure their transfer to our teams as requested. _

The three warrior mechs regarded the latest liaison officer with blank stares and open mouths. He was short, badly out of physical shape, and had informed them on the first day his time was temporary. As in holding the position for any person insane enough to fill it by choice.

"The only reason the request was refused was because of gender?" Ultra Magnus stated, not believing what he had just heard. Sure, Optimus and Prowl had warned him about the apparent bias but he had truly believed they were joking.

"Precisely. Women are not allowed on special Ops teams, even yours."

"But the treaty specifies we have the right to cooperate with the military command of our choosing as long as it does not interfere with operations." Optimus reminded. "Therefore?"

"Women are not aggressive enough." Behind the man, outside the windows on the main field, two of the Arcee bots walked into view, carrying a very distinctive shape of a red twin mech between them. He was prone, bound from neck to knee plates with metal cable, obviously struggling to break free.

::What happened?:: Optimus

::He messed with our soap wash. In bright light, it shows:: Arcee

::We're going to work on his paint job and return the favor. Then turn him over to Ratchet:: Flareup

Optimus watched as the sunlight broke through the clouds, shining down on them. The femmes' normal paint shifted to white with large black splotches like a jersey cow.

::Very unusual. Where is Sunstreaker?:: Optimus

::With Ratchet. Least, most of his pieces are. He used a different type of chemical spray on Chromia. It made her outer paint crack and flake apart. It has to be entirely relayed and bonded. Apparently she was planning a special night with Ironhide and was not happy:: Arcee explained, as they rounded the corner, disappearing out of view.

Optimus winced, not wanting to consider what that meant. He refocused on the human, replaying the words his audio sensors recorded back at super speed to catch up to that point.

"Women can't handle combat stress like men can. They lack the background and training we receive from the time we are small. And they are made with lighter, smaller frames. Like your femmes." He smugly concluded.

"The femmes present." Prowl and Ultra Magnus said simultaneously then waited as Optimus spoke next.

"Just as you are not representative of your species, neither are the femmes here of ours. And our history, over a million years while yours is measured in thousands, teaches they are as qualified as we mechs."

"Bigger? Really?" the man drawled, as if they were capable of lying.

Both brothers raised one hand above their head and one out to the side, showing height and breath bigger than them. "Desertstar was a scientist and created both our plasma rifles and much of our advanced weaponry." Prowl explained. "She personally gave Ironhide his cannons when he was in his second frame and designed the upgrades in third frame onward. She died in an explosion, after disarming a device that would have triggered a thermal reaction, offlining thousands of our kind." They bowed their heads, still and quiet in memory.

"What about special teams? Like your ranks? Ever been a Prime? Or Primess?" He countered, feeling out of his depth as they simply ignored the traditional arguments he has used before to get around human requests.

"There have been two Primes. One from so long ago only her name and legends remain. The other was Mesayon. Her gift was tactics and strategy." Optimus said. "We have won battles and achieved success on other worlds with what she taught each of us. We all knew her personally. Do not disparage her memory with your attempts to sideline the argument." He warned, with the deadliness usually only his brother Megatron could affect.

"When I request specific humans, the reasons are unimportant to you other than making it happen." His volume began rising. "Titles, ranks or human tradition are irrelevant. And the first change I am going to personally request from your General, the Joint Chiefs, and President is you from this position." He shouted then noticed Ultra Magnus tilting his head to the side, focused on something behind him. Whatever it was, his optics were wide and he folded his hands behind his back, the faint hum of internal cooling systems kicking in.

"Fine!" the man began screaming, "You war our world. You #Q%^ robots are trouble! I was ^&*( warned about you!" He jumped as someone hit him upside the back of his head. "You are going…" he began then quit as Sarah Lennox, wife of Major Will Lennox and mother of Annabelle put her hand over his mouth.

"No swearing, no yelling, inside voices. Do we need a time out? I think we do but first, let's review the rules of being good," she said, her eyes an intense blue.

"Emergency!" Optimus said, tapping the side of his head as though hearing a signal. "I'm sorry Sarah, we must go." He transformed rapidly, gears and servos whining in protest. Ultra Magnus and Prowl followed, rolling out as fast as their alt forms allowed.


	20. Chapter 20 Where you are from

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews, comments and e-mails. Thanks to fellow writer Karategal for her idea of creator / sparkling and spark neglect. Yes, I did ask her permission. Have 3 e-mails to prove it.

I do not own Transformers, only get to write about them. Paramount, Hasbro and whoever they signed contracts with own _ALL_ the rights. Thanks to fan fiction for allowing us to post for others to read. Onward to learning.

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In the hangar, various Autobots waited for the latest surveillance report from NASA. Possible comets on an inbound earth trajectory had been detected by the Hubble telescope. They hoped for more Autobots and not Decepticons.

"Where's the new liaison?" Hound asked, seeing the designated work station on the raised walkway platform was empty.

"Isn't one," Ironhide said, half hiding his grin behind one black armored hand. "No one wanted it this time."

"How about Sarah Lennox?" the green scout couldn't resist subtly teasing.

"Prime already tried," Ironhide surprised them all. "She is not a government employee, not appointed by any official and is smart, dedicated, cares for us, and is organized. That automatically disqualifies her."

"Imagine that."Ultra Magnus, pretending to polish the edge of his favorite sword. He was relieved for Optimus not having to deal with another foolish human. They tended to slow down operations and were a severe liability in battle situations. "Did you hear what the twins did?"

"The paint job changes to the Arcee tri?" Hound asked.

"No, after that. Sunstreaker had built a replica of his external shell and Chromia found it, thinking it was him. Shot it, stabbed it, blasted it some more then stomped it in a rage. Ratchet got what was left. He noticed immediately there was no spark chamber, memory processors, or internal relays but never said a word. Sideswipe got caught though."

"I saw. Stucco the humans call it? A white spiky three dimensional paint effect." Ironhide smirked.

"Why did Sunstreaker have a shell double?" Ultra Magnus asked, sheathing the sword back into his leg.

"I didn't ask. Some reasons are better not known. Won't be able to pull that trick twice though."

_59. Do not assist humans with homework, or teach them advanced materials beyond their current need unless an emergency situation or circumstances require it. Civilian or military included. *Bumblebee, Hound, and Ironhide._

Sam Witwicky looked at his homework assignment schedule for the semester and groaned, laying his head on the picnic table. The softest touch across his hair accompanied with a tingling sensation made him smile. "I'm fine 'Bee. You don't need to scan me," he whispered, knowing the sensitive hearing of his best friend and guardian could detect his heartbeat at that close a range. He straightened up, looking directly into blue optics. "I'm sorry. I'm just overloaded right now. With the class changing to late afternoon instead of morning, and being out for that peace conference, that never officially happened, its just…." He stopped, realizing he was whining. "And get up please. You're kneeling on the grass. It's not dignified. Even if the park is closed and no else sees."

"_For you I would give the world_," song snippet played. But the young yellow mech settled back, sitting on his aft, looking up at the stars. He pointed up then down at Sam then back up, reminding him they had snuck in to watch the meteor shower, leaving Leo and the other students back at the college dorm.

"What did I do to deserve you?" Sam asked. "Any of you? You fought the Decepticons instead of turning me in. Time and again. Saved our planet twice and here I am, complaining about math. Too bad the Allspark shards are gone."

"_You say goodbye I say hello_," song piece played out into the open night air. Bumblebee folded his hands, looking around, pretending to whistle.

"Optimus said they were all accounted for." A nod confirmed that fact. "Then how can? Wait, Jetfire said the knowledge was there, all I had to do was to access it."

Sounds of applause echoed followed by a man's voice clip "_you got it in one_!"

Sam looked doubtful. "What side effects this time? My skin goes metal or I hear the Primes instead of see them or break a bone, trying to transform into an alt mode I don't have?"

Bumblebee shook his head in a no side to side. He reached out one metal finger, pointing directly at Sam then down on the ground. He traced a math formula in the air, waiting for what happened next.

The human thought then quoted the answer before yelling in surprise. "I knew that? Wow! How did I do that? Let's do more!" He twitched his hands, suddenly seeing a way to free up his time.

Sunrise caught them both working on formulas. Upset, Bumblebee simply changed into his alt mode and did nothing until Sam climbed in. In ten minutes he was asleep and wasn't returned to the dorm until that evening. Leo assumed he had a hot date, his lab partners were off at their own party and Sam never said, accessing the school's online catalog about testing out of classes. He petitioned for the basic freshman course, paying the half tuition required and aced it. In record time so he stalled the next hour, drawing Decepticons getting offlined in unusual ways.

"We did it 'Bee!" He yelled in the parking lot, hopping in to his yellow Camaro. Other students ignored them both, as neither appeared interesting enough.

"Never doubted you for a moment," women's voice clip played.

"Oh, can't you stick to guys or songs? That voice, from you, is too weird." He said. The car bounced once up and down with laughter before heading out. Sam tested out of three more advanced math classes, and then had to turn down an offer to become a math lab assistant and to tutor students that needed it.

"Glad I have scholarships to pay for all this. And you'll only be gone for a few days right?" he glanced up at his guardian, in his true form, once again sneaking into the hillside park.

The mech nodded, having briefed Sam that morning. He was reassured fellow Autobot scout Hound would keep watch and be there as needed for running errands. What he hadn't said was Ratchet's and Optimus' concern. It was foremost in his processors as he pulled into the Diego Garcia base and rolled into med lab.

"Do you have any idea the risk you took with that human youngling?" Ratchet started right in, lifting the bot up to the exam table.

::He knew the math. I reminded him:: Bumblebee.

"And if his brain had seized up or he remembered more data than it could handle? What would you have done, who would you have called?"

::You. Who else?:: Bumblebee

"I'm an Autobot medic, not a fleshling retrieval bot. And I have to ask you a very personal question and I will know if you lie to me. Understand?" the medic leaned in close, optic to optic, waiting for an answer.

The bot nodded once, rubbing his metal hands together nervously without realizing it. A thousand entries ran through his processors. From things he had thought he had gotten away with as a sparkling and youngling to errors made in battle.

"I know Sam is your ward and your friend. You have shared battles and life together. But I need to know. Is he more than that?" The medic asked.

'Huh?' Bumblebee's thought processes stumbled, as that question had not been expected. He paused, wondering why would he have explain that he cared for Sam as a friend and guardian. The other Autobots knew it. So what was Ratchet asking?

"I mean, is your relationship intimate? As in mech and femme type?"

"EEEEWWWWWWWWWW! Crack fizzle ssshhh static OW!" Bumblebee gasped then yelped as Ratchet hit him.

"No vocal processing! How many times do I have to tell you!" He yelled, as watched as Bumblebee grasped his yellow throat plating, bobbing forward, pretending to choke on the question. "We had to be sure. The idea had been suggested by a human."

:: Sam is my friend and a human. He's a different race! Small and fragile that is why I am his guardian too. If I needed a femme I could ask Arcee for help but I don't process that way on humans! Sam has no spark, no way to connect to my processors and he loves Mikeala. She is my friend too. Did the human ask if I knew her as a mech to her being a femme?:: Bumblebee

"No, only Sam," Ratchet answered.

:: Warped human. No wonder their internet is filthy if they would think that!:: Bumblebee

"You're not looking at that filth are you?"

::No! College kids mention it all the time. Sam finds it disgusting too. Am I free to go? Ironhide is due back soon:: Bumblebee sent and got permission to leave. He raced out of the lab as Ratchet watched.

"I don't know what we would have done if Ironhide hadn't agreed to raise him. I only hope he can provide the answers to the questions we hope Bumblebee never asks. I have too many cracked processors to deal with now."

_81. When asked 'where do you come from' do not reply:_

_a. Detroit, can't you tell?_

_b. A galaxy far, far away._

_c. Once there was a giant junkyard in space and there was surge of light and a big boom._

_d. Anywhere I slagging want to fleshling. _

_e. Your worst nightmare. *Wheelie_

_f. Area 51, under the ice of Antarctica, the lost city of Atlantis, the planets core, a Hawaiian volcano or any other earth location._

_g. The future. Have you seen Sarah or John Connor?_

_h. Me? I'm on lunch break from the movie set. *Sunstreaker, Sideswipe_

_i. GMC. Doing a customer satisfaction survey. What do you think about... *Ironhide_

_j. Tokyo, we're trying to catch Godzilla. Please don't be alarmed by giant lizards. _

_k. I'm really not here. I'm the third drink you had. Lucky you didn't have a fourth. *Ultra Magnus_

_l. A mech and a femme that spark bonded . Haven't you studied mechanics yet? *Ratchet_

_m. The bypass. The interstate traffic is killer this time of day. _

_n. A poet's dream and a weapon maker's horror. _

_o. That's classified. Keep staring and I'll have to offline you just for looking. _

_P. "A hot place to claim your immortal soul" while a hologram of a devil appears. _

_r. Used tin cans and recycled kitchen appliances._

_s. I don't know. Do any of us truly know where we have been and where we are going? _

_**Story Arc**_

Optimus looked over at Bumblebee, remembering. "I watched you come online for the very first time. Your optics opened and looked right at me. And everything I had done, everything I had sacrificed to become Prime and save our world was worth that one moment. A new life for hope."

Bumblebee blinked, then in a yellow blur hit Optimus, knocking them both over, and attached to his larger red armored chest plates.

'What the?' Optimus thought, placing his hands protectively over the little bot's back. He had expected anger, or an attack but not this. Bumblebee was shuddering, the internal cooling system running loud enough to hear. Tentatively, Optimus reached out, sending encouragement and a hint of his need to be understood. A tidal wave of pure joy swept back. Total, unconditional love and a need so deep for that love it fluttered his own aged spark.

"I should have told you but I feared what would happen. Megatron hated me and wants us all destroyed. He would destroy Cybertron to hurt me, how much more those I love? Elita and I have faced assassins and seen those around us offlined to make us suffer. I could not risk you."

Bumblebee sat up, his optics covered in fluids. Optimus' lip plates twitched at the messy face. "So like your first vorns. The hardest troops seemed at your command rather than have you cry."

His smile faded as Bumblebee shuddered again, his cooling systems kicking into their highest gear. "Calm down youngling. We have all the time to talk. 'Bee? What's wrong?"

The little yellow bot opened his mouth to speak then sagged, the light in his optics fading as his internal systems stopped.

::RATCHET!:: Optimus

In med bay, Ratchet was on his feet and running for the outer doors before the call ended, hearing the desperation in it. ::Where?::

::Research hangar. Bumblebee in stasis shock and his core temperature is rising. Hurry!:: Optimus

::What was he doing right before?:: Ratchet, hopping over two armored vehicles, dodged sideways between a narrower space of two buildings and continued running.

::I told him I was his mech creator:: Optimus ::Then he shut down::

::Cool him!:: Ratchet

::I am! Where the slag are you?:: Optimus swore, both hands blowing ice cold air over the yellow mini bot. Minutes later, the hangar doors slammed back, reacting to a medical priority override. The green and yellow colors of the medic never looked so good. Sliding to a stop, he knelt, transforming one hand into a robot sized needle. Filing it with bright blue fluid, he stabbed down through yellow armor into the protoform, releasing coolant directly into the spark spires.

"He's in full spark overload. Primary systems are out. What were you thinking? It's like throwing a bot dying of energon into a pool of it. He'll drown before enough is absorbed," Ratchet growled, continuing to administer more coolant. "His systems are compromised by spark neglect. Or hadn't you figured that out by now?"

"Spark neglect? From me?"

"Yes, you. For a Prime you can be thick chipped," Ratchet pulled the needle out, refilling it and injecting into his upper leg near its connection cabling.

"But spark neglect is fatal. And this happened so quickly. Why now?" Optimus asked, shaken and not understanding.

"Bumblebee is tougher than he looks and has been suffering for a long time," the medic explained, wanting this patient stabilized before dealing with Optimus. What he had to tell and show him might send him into stasis shock and one frazzled mech at a time was enough. He retracted the needle, transforming his hand back, while monitoring the readings intently. "There, stable." Ratchet lifted the mini bot up, waiting for Optimus to rise and transfer the metal chassis back to his waiting armored hands. "Med lab, and gently. Then we need to talk."

_To be continued…_


	21. Chapter 21 Life and its challenges

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. I do not own Transformers; none of us writers here on fan fiction do actually. Hasbro, Paramount and others do. I also do not own the trademark Slurpee, other trademarked food items or reality TV shows. Used here only because they are so well known and not for profit.

These sketches do NOT exist either. I write but do not draw Transformers. If someone with that gift could, please go for it. Onward to dealing with others.

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'Another day, another laugh,' Prowl thought, confiscating yet more sketches. One showed a desert scene with a roadrunner on the left side, its normal colors repainted red and blue flames. Two pointed sensors on either side replaced its head feathers. In front of it on the right, a large boulder sunk into the ground. Two silver feet barely stuck out from the back, two arms out the front with a silver mini cannon on one, showing the purple Decepticon symbol. 'Megatron does not wear his symbol there but the sentiment is right.' Prowl noted.

The next sketch was a three panel, with the little blue Decepticon turned Autobot and guardian of his warrior goddess, Wheelie and the human Sam glaring at each other. "One insult too many" was printed underneath. Middle panel showed Wheelie grabbed into the air and out of the panel. Last panel showed Wheelie with his leg and arms tight against his body. He was wearing a tan grass skirt and a coconuts bikini on top. Motion lines showing swaying side to side as he sat on Bumblebee's dash. The signed initials of the artist were in the left most corner.

Outwardly, Prowl expression was controlled and calm as logic dictated. Inwardly, the barest twitch of his reasoning processor betrayed his delight.

_Identity of artist: confirmed. _

_Security leak: non-existent. _

_Malicious intent: None. _

_Command Jurisdictional authority: None. _

_Probability of fellow Autobots hurting self if interfering in future endeavors: HIGH! _

_Analysis: Let artist continue, inform only Optimus Prime. _

_Probable reaction: amusement and request for copy of sketches. _

_End Result: Problem solved. Continue with rules updates upon reaching office.'_

BAWHAM!

Balance sensors screaming, Prowl went down, the mech not even identifiable to his battle compensator as they collided. Remote programming subspaced his energy baton into his hand as blasters and plasma relays charged and came online. The all too familiar audios of rolling cannons froze him in place.

"Move!" Ironhide pushed him to the side, climbing back to his knees then stood, adjusting his balance. The ancient black warrior mech dashed onward, humans and Autobots scattering out of his way. Prowl returned his baton to subspace, drained off the excess energon and picked up the sketches, not realizing the outline of a foot stamp was dead center on his chest plates. Sunstreaker did and was the first to snap a photo, and relay to his twin. He added a caption underneath and forwarded it to Hound. From there, it went onto the NEST intranet, in the funny clips files, to be voted on. It never made higher than number six.

_64. Do not appear to panic, become unduly upset or show unpredictable violent behavior around the humans. We are intelligent, self-controlled living beings, with thousands of years of experience and wisdom. _*Ironhide (who else?), Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Wheelie

_66. Do not post embarrassing, unusual or surprised moment pictures of fellow Autobots on the internal relays or NEST intranet. _*Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, and Hound_. _

_73. Do not use holographic driver programs to portray any trademarked food, beverage or similar product, even if attempting to remain anonymous_. *not even going to bother this time

'Is there anything left to change a hologram to not in the rules?' Prowl wondered. 'I swear they must work their data modules overtime to come up with these.'

Sideswipe started the round of holographic changes. He was meeting Bumblebee to exchange virus upgrades and data reports, with Ratchet wanting an in bot scan as a precaution. The local convenience store was a halfway point for both and where Sideswipe waited, hidden in the shadows of a burned out street light. He watched an older dodge neon car pull in, parking crooked by the front doors. It was the yelling and begging for mercy that caught his instant attention. 'He's robbing this place? What kind of a moron is this human?' Sideswipe theorized then verified there were no camera signals detected nearby. He switched to bi pedal normal mode and picked the robber's car up, throwing it into a field several blocks over. Stepping back into the shadows, his holographic driver blinked into existence then changed form.

The human ran out with boxes of cigarettes in his arms. "Hey, where's my car? And what the heck is that?" he wheezed. A giant slurpee cup stood facing him, complete with straw, two arms and two legs attached. It dropped down into a fighting stance, pulling out its straw like a weapon. The cigarettes dropped to the pavement as the human began to run. The straw hit the back of his legs, knocking him down. He rolled, trying to breathe as the straw hit him in the stomach, robbing him of what little air he had drawn in. Then it disappeared into silver sparkles. A red Lamborghini drove onto the street, honking its horn once as the city police neared.

Jazz laughed and loved the idea when he heard it. He found another high crime area and changed his to a giant slice of pepperoni pizza. His robber tried shooting, only to have the pepperoni slices flung at him like flying discs of death. Ducking and shooting, he turned around and ran right into a street sign, knocking himself out cold. Jazz verified he was still alive before calling 911 for an ambulance and police.

Bumblebee choose a giant hot dog. He pretended to throw the hot dog part into the trash and grab the man with the bun. The whole time he played the hot dog jingle from the commercial. It so freaked that human robber, he converted to being a vegetarian for life.

Several more shapes followed until a teen with a camera phone recorded the event for the internet. A soldier at NEST saw it, reported it and the food holograms were then banned.

_78. Do not express personal opinions, beliefs or attitudes regarding Decepticons around humans. _

_a.) Especially Annabelle Lennox until she reaches an appropriate age of maturity per her parental units. _*Ironhide and any other mech or femme_. _

_b.) Exempted are NEST authorized personnel, Sam Witwicky (not his parents) and Mikeala Banes (not her father or aunt)_

Major Will Lennox looked at his daughter and resisted the urge to beat his head repeatedly on the nearest data console. 'She's only a child. At an age where she copies what she sees and hears. And who is she around? Giant alien warrior beings with one particular protective aggressive guardian. Why couldn't Sarah have talked to her on this?' he complained, remembering his wife patiently explaining it took two parents and a village, or in their case, a group of Autobots to raise a child properly. In addition, if it continued, she would handle it in person.

"Now sweetie. We do not refer to Decepticons as cannon fodder, pre bot bag specials, pit spawned scrap, or a good way to spend energon. They are mean and evil."

"Uh huh. Jetfire was good at the end. And Wheelie is funny," she laughed as her father choked. "He tells me about how mean the 'cons were to him. Now he's happy. He talks funny."

"That's another thing Annabelle. Some of the Autobots talk funny or use words that are not..." he searched for the right term to use around a five and a half year old.

"They're bad words daddy, I know. I try not to use them." She blushed, folding her hands behind her back.

"You know they're bad?" He asked, seeing a way out. If she knew, then she could learn not to use them.

"Yup. They tell me I can't use them until I am older and a hero like you and Ironhide." She smiled, leaning closer and hugged him. He hugged back, his eyes misting over with a father's love and joy.

'What are a few words now and then,' he mentally reasoned. 'She's protected and I'll tell Sarah she's like you honey. Fierce, kick-aft and no one messes with our kid.'

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker rolled into the hangar, transforming into their red and yellow robot forms and waving. "Ready for another driving lesson? We hacked all the police reports and erased all the highway cameras from last time. Oh, hi Major Lennox."

"^%#$% you two!"

"Daddy! I'm telling mommy you swore!"

_81. Do not adapt human reality shows to our existence._

A previous liaison had criticized the number of TV's spread around the base and the giant sized one in the Autobots recreational area. His report stated it was a waste of funding as the Autobots could connect directly into signals from all over the world. They responded TV was a primary part of human culture and they wanted an area they could share with their human companions. And it was easier to ask a human sitting next to you than to surf the internet and see who knows what. The majority voted him off of the base and extinguished his virtual torch the day he left.

The weapons practice was next. Wheeljack was field-testing new ammo charges when they began ricocheting. Jumping and twisting, Chromia and Ironhide avoided being impaled by explosive shrapnel, landing in a heap at the starting line. Hound, Mudflap and Skids each held up a virtual scorecard. 9.5 9.0 and 8.0. "The landing lacked grace," Skids commented when they looked at his 8.0. He laughed then flew backwards from Chromia's kick to his chest plates. She gave him a 9.5 for hitting the wall. "Nice splat." Ratchet and Optimus Prime were not amused and officially banned virtual scorecards.

Several of the braver mechs called Ironhide "Chef" for a while before he realized they were comparing him to an infamous chef known for his temper and yelling. Singing was never a common Cybertronian specialty, eliminating those shows, much to Bumblebee and Jazz's dismay.

Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus refused to turn assignments into a contest, though they threatened anyone failing not with 'you're fired' but brig time. Same for scouting missions. They were not a 'race' but serious reconnaissance. Any disregard of proper procedures and brig time resulted. When it was empty and not occupied by the twins that was.

_**Autobot Med-Bay, NEST base, Diego Garcia (pt 3)**_

Optimus Prime leaned against the wall directly facing the med bay doors, too ashamed to go in. "It's my fault," he sorrowed. Ironhide crashed through the hallway far doors, nearly sliding to a stop. He targeted the closed doors with his cannons then hesitated, looking over at Prime.

"Bumblebee is recovering. Needs time with Ratchet. Then we can both see him." He made a settle down gesture, watching as the other mech lowered his cannons, venting rapidly.

"What happened? I got a call from Ratchet, 'Bee's gone critical." He walked up to the doors, nearly touching them.

"He'll need you. You have always been there for him."

"You should have been there too! His spark carries your coding!" He snarled, leaning his head against the closed doors.

"You knew?" He sputtered in shock as Ironhide spun, slamming into him, pinning his larger frame against the wall.

"Everybot slagging knew Prime! Everybot but the one who mattered! 'Bee! Only when he was in recharge, or med bay did you ever show you truly cared. Was it a weakness after Tyger Pax? He was tortured to near offlining and you never let him know! You left him to humans to pursue the Allspark. Chained, nearly frozen and tortured by Sector Seven," Ironhide shuttered his optics, venting furiously as he backed up. "I should have disobeyed you. Gone after him. He fought injured at Mission City. Could have offlined like Jazz."

"I never wanted him hurt or offlined by my enemies or by my actions. That was why I hid who I was from him." Optimus said, his red and blue arms folded across his chest.

"It happened anyways! Did you ever talk to him after Egypt?" the black mech hissed, his cannons rolling. "You offlined! Bumblebee risked everything, even Sam to bring you back. What price is worth your silence?"

CLANG! A metal wrench ricocheted off the back of Ironhide's head dome. "Stop it! This is a med bay and I don't need you two aft-heads adding to my injured list. Prime, get inside. Ironhide you have to wait. That is an order."

Ratchet returned to med bay, counting the astro seconds, expecting to be hit from behind with cannon blasts. The double doors slid shut. 'Thank Primus he listened. Next to Prime he's a real threat when upset.' His multi faceted optics narrowed, watching Optimus trying to read the medical scans displayed above Bumblebee's air chamber. He touched the top of the dome, looking over the yellow bot's form underneath.

"Your sparkling will recover. Yes, I know. Slag it Prime! It has to be the worse kept secret next to Prowl having a sense of humor. The enclosed dome is only for the critical situations but right now, it's the only way to temperature control without affecting the entire room. I could bring him online but not at the risk of another overload." The medic gestured towards an Autobot sized metal bench.

"Prime," Ratchet deliberately refrained from using his mech name and jumped into what had to be said. "The spark neglect has been ongoing." He noted the instant denial and flare of anger from Optimus, his optics flickering with red. 'I'm betting he can stay in control. If not, this is going to hurt.' The medic thought, pausing a moment for his leader to think. "Bumblebee needed spark interaction desperately but never said."

"I didn't know," his vocal tone was soft, as he unconsciously held a silver armored hand over his own spark.

"Why would you Prime? The great and noble leader who fought his brother, the Lord High Protector, over the fate of our entire race? Did you really expect the smallest, youngest of the scouts to come to his Prime, who refused to acknowledge same youngling, to ask about a possible relationship?"

Optimus open his mouth, snarling his lip plates then bit back what he was going to say. He glanced over at the readings above Bumblebee before looking back. "Megatron is a traitor to our race and continues this war that endangers us all. I cannot acknowledge him as brother or I could not fight him."

"Do you ever think of anything but battles and being a Prime?" Ratchet continued, keeping his famous temper in check, "I know why you shut out Megatron. But you were aged! And if you want my medical opinion, I think you missed having a family enough you risked everything to create Bumblebee!"

Optimus unsheathed the amber sword from his wrist, swinging it up against Ratchet's throat in a single motion. Red sparked optics met blue optics. Neither moved, until Optimus looked away, his optics returning to blue as he retracted the sword.

"What can I do?" He asked, his vocal tone soft and broken.

"What you started. Acknowledge your youngling. And if it helps, Bumblebee already knew." He nodded at the open disbelief in Optimus' expression. "He's known and never said, never admitted even to me."

"Then how?"

"I'm a medic." He snorted, rolling his optics. "Recognizing injuries and ailments is more than broken energon lines and crossed cables. Matters of the spark coding and processors affect as much as plasma holes and energon burns. Truthfully, I was about to force you both into this situation as he has been steadily degrading."

"Now, we will go slow, keeping him here, monitoring your interactions from a distance. You block or hesitate and he will internalize it, blaming himself. Ironhide and I will have a talk with him. You go recharge. One frazzled mech is enough. Use the recharge berth in there." Ratchet pointed to the sidewall, in his private area when he felt the need to be close to his patients. "Scanners on the wall relay the data out here. One look and you know what I know. Go Optimus. He is safe and will need you the moment he onlines."

_To be continued….. (I know, you hate that phrase but it is true, more is coming)_


	22. Chapter 22 Coming clean

Author's Notes: Thank you for the reviews. Back on track here. Bumblebee and Prime segment is pretty much done as a main bit. Tying to decide on what or who next. Will see how each chapter flows. Thanks again to Karategal for her idea of Ironhide raising a youngling Bumblebee and Optimus dealing with being his creator and unable to tell him. Researched sparks on tf wiki, spark coding and family relationships.

What do I find funny? I love chapter 14 in _Autobot Pranks _fic where Optimus Prime appears to be a femme. Not because of the gender switch but his frustration in dealing with no one noticing Prime is gone and a curvy red and blue semi femme is there instead. 2nd place goes to _Edge of Reason _fic, chapter 1 only. I so am Prime in that chapter! That describes the chaos at my work some days. 3rd is _Keep all limbs inside the vehicle at all times_ with Jazz and the carjacker. All three are in my favorite stories under my profile. Onward to sea life and coming clean.

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_72. Do not assist with the removal, extermination or prevention of pests on base. Including but not limited to rats, mice, snakes, insects or perceived pests like small dogs and government liaisons. _

"I am not even going to add an index to this rule." Prowl said. His e-mail notification blinked, another photo had been added for voting. "Who do I throw in the brig this time?"

_84. Do not attempt to adjust, enhance or improve the functioning of human equipment in their showers, restrooms or private living quarters. _*Wheeljack

Major Will Lennox dropped his gun belt to the bench, wanting to flop to the floor and sleep for a hundred years. 'Why do Decepticons always pick areas remote enough to be dirty yet populated enough to create public disasters?' Mud encrusted clothing dropped to the floor, an untidy pile of uniform pieces and underwear. With a soft groan, the Major reached for the shower handle. A piece of paper crumpled in his grasp. "What? It's fixed. Finally get some decent pressure." He threw the note aside, never reading it was from Wheeljack and not the base maintenance. The handle turned to the right, and nothing happened. Wanting to cry, he turned it all the way, and waited. A faint gurgling and rattling of distant pipes was his only warning.

AAARRGRGGHHHHH!

NEST soldiers dropped into combat positions in the hallway then flattened themselves against the wall as the shower room door exploded outward. A tsunami of water followed, carrying a very naked, very screaming Major with it.

The water hit the end of the hall, breaking a window and gushing out. He was pinned against the wall, curled into a defensive ball for a few seconds until the water slowed then stopped. Even a military water containment system had its limits. Sarah and Annabelle never asked why their farmhouse got two new porcelain bathtubs installed but suspected when the Autobots footed the bill. Wheeljack apologized, explaining he monitored the repair requests for ideas and saw Lennox's request. Maintenance had assigned it a low priority and Wheeljack had been free that afternoon.

The moment of the hallway being flooded was stolen from the security camera footage, loaded onto the NEST mainframe, into the funny clips files, and voted on. It made number four of all time funniest.

_85. Do not attempt to awaken a human, especially one that is tired from previous battles, by: _

_a. Leaning in very close to their face and tapping them. Remember our size differences. _*Optimus Prime, Ultra Magnus and Ratchet.

_b. Grabbing them by their ankle extensions and swing them up into the air like a sparkling. _

_c. Using a light magnetic pulse to get their attention. _

_d. Do not charge weapons and blast the bed out from under them. _

_e. Jumping up and down on the floor, pavement or ground. Especially those from California, Oregon and Washington. (Earthquake country)_

_f. Play any song at full volume._

_g. Yell "Hey fleshling, recharge time is over!" _*Ironhide

_h. Scream, "The Decepticons are attacking, the Decepticons are attacking."_

_i. Place a sleeping human femme on or nearby them. Neither will appreciate it, certainly any unbonded pair. _*Sideswipe, Sunstreaker

_j. A few drops of water will work, not an Autobot size handful. Please refer to emergency drowning procedures for fleshlings module. _

_k. Do not stroke, prod or tickle them. Reactions to said touching will be varied and may create a response you are unable or incapable of dealing with. _

_l. Never cover their face or breathing apertures. You will offline them and Autobot Command will offline you pending trial until the end of the war for murder. Review physical limitations of human's structures, a medical requirements module. _

_m. Cold only if varying a few degrees and not using freezing rays. Too varied a temperature and they will develop hypothermia or offline. Again, consult medical requirements. _

_n. Place five alarms clocks around said sleeper, each 15 seconds apart in alarm time and trigger the first. _

_o. Do not use frozen marbles, shaving cream, syrup, paint, live animals, or insects for assistance._

p. _If all else fails or you are concerned about injuries, let them sleep. Their command officer will deal with it. _

_q. If Sam Witwicky - Report to Bumblebee or his parental units. Repeated attempts will be required and they know the methods that have worked in the past without injury. _

_r. If Mikeala Banes - Do not disturb. Let Sam Witwicky or Optimus Prime make the attempt. They are more likely to be allowed to continue to function once said femme is awake._

"For being called the weaker sex, human femmes rival our warrior legends." Prowl noted. "I should request them with greater frequency. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe worked when given the chance, even if no one understood why I chose them for a battle team. How hard could commanding a group of Autobot femmes and humans be?"

_101. Do not change holographic drivers into animals, real or mythical. _

"Can we go underwater?" Annabelle asked, sitting on the front steps of her sand castle. A children's picture book about a mermaid lay nearby, covering sea life coloring books.

"Uhm, no. You're too little swim out that far and we, are not really built for getting wet." Ironhide explained, soaking up more light into his solar panels. He hated to tell Annabelle no on anything. They could go underwater but he could just imagine the problems occurring under all that wet stuff. 'It's unnatural. Cybertron had no seas. ' He glanced over at the green mech reclining in the sand nearby.

::Your turn nature bot:: Ironhide

::Sure thing grandpa bot:: Hound said, ignoring the threat gestured his way in battle code. 'Primus help us when she realizes those hand movements mean something and learns them. Or worse tries them herself.' He sat up, turning on his shoulder holo-emitter, explaining about some of the sea shells they could search for. The twins and other Autobots half listened, charging their solar panels.

"Dolphins!" the girl squealed, pointing out in the water.

"No, this is the wrong time of year for them. Or not." He added as two bright blue huge dolphins jumped out of the water, flipped graceful end over end in perfect unison before diving under. They shot back up, balancing on their tails, squeaking excitedly.

::Show offs:: Hound sent to the twins. Out on the water the dolphins jumped again before disappearing.

"Any turtles?" she asked, grabbing a coloring book and pointing.

"A few. Let me see what I can find for you. " He searched the internet cross referencing the correct species for the area and refocused, to find she was gone.

"Look!" she yelled from further down the sand, pointing to a massive sea turtle waddling out of the surf.

"I've never see one that size." Hound said, then noticed the faintest light image ripple across its shell. "Never mind. Why don't you go say hello? It seems friendly enough. At least it's the proper green."

"Pretty blue eyes." She patted its head, her hand following the curve of its massive shell. "Can we keep it?"

"No. It's wild and can be mean. A hazard to be around. I know the type," Hound commented. The turtle hissed, raising a front foot.

"It's waving a flipper at you." She laughed.

::It's flipping you all right:: Sideswipe

"Take my photo?" She begged, pointing back at her camera on the steps.

"Take my photo please." Hound corrected, balancing her tiny digital camera on his metal fingers while using his advanced tech to capture the moment. The turtle returned to the sea before disappearing.

"I want more photos!" Annabelle explored various parts of the surrounding area with her Autobot friends, never really noticing that deer, bears, raccoons, and other woodland animals co-existed on a super secret military base, on a tropical island in the middle of the Indian Ocean.

The NEST personnel realized what was going on and never said, only admiring her photos and patiently listening to how her day had gone. They were well used to the strangeness accompanying giant alien robots who could use holograms. Very little surprised them and almost nothing frightened them anymore.

So on a clear autumn morning, no one really blinked when a headless horseman, all in black on a black horse with blue eyes galloped by, chasing the twins holographic human form drivers. Or when it raced the other way, chased by two unicorns. Soldiers simply moved out of the path, waiting for them to gallop by before continuing with their duties. A Minotaur, the Bigfoot monster, and a large ape soon joined the chase, all weaving in and around base equipment and buildings. Humans began ducking and dodging as things got wilder.

KAWHAMM!

The enormous winged dragon raised his clawed foot, releasing Sideswipe's unicorn as the other creatures froze. Its bright blue scales sparkled in the light, the red wings and claws deadly and spiked. It turned red eyes on them and growled. They all began explaining at the same time.

"Enough!" It bellowed, flames extending out the nostrils. "Any bot causing trouble in the next four joors and I will space you myself!" Prime's angry voice warned from its mouth. The holograms disappeared as the Autobots bowed silently before the dragon. It blew smoke and fire then stomped off, heading towards med bay.

::What's got him so riled?:: Sunstreaker

::Bumblebee is down. He'll be fine with time:: Ironhide reassured. ::Prime is taking it personal::

::It's his sparkling. I'd be upset too:: Hound sent then shifted to his green army jeep alt mode. He had patrol soon and kept a comm line open for updates.

In med bay, Ratchet waited until Optimus' optics opened and brightened before continuing their discussion. "Bumblebee is online but not fully functional. Try keeping it simple. How much you love him, need him without guilt or anything negative."

"This is not my first time showing love. I am spark mated."

"There is not the same. What happens affects his spark and his core processors. Ultra Magnus had a different mech creator than you and barely interacted with Bumblebee when he was a youngling. Even though he is your brother by definition."

"I know that," Optimus grumpily reminded the medic.

"His spark is more yours thanks to the matrix and no femme. She would have been the other half of his spark coding," Ratchet continued, glad he had locked all wrenches out of reach. One would have already been used. "He does react to your spark mate, Elita. The part of her that is interlaced within your spark coding as your equal he recognizes."

"He does? I didn't know that."

"Arcee already tried to reach him as a femme to a youngling needing help before you ask. He never twitched. Ironhide got a solid response before he slipped back under. I had to order Ironhide outside for a joor to cool down himself. Now it's your turn." Ratchet keyed controls, sliding the dome back into the table housing. He stepped back, every medical response system ready and charged.

Optimus looked at Bumblebee, thinking. Appearing to reach a decision, he caressed the top of Bumblebee's head plates, remembering the action soothed the sparkling when upset. He began focusing on his best memories of the little bot and reached mentally while his physical form went into standby.

The darkness was silent and thick, the dimmest glow at the end confirming Bumblebee's existence. 'So faint,' he murmured, reaching with the strength and determination of a warrior. The glimmer pulled further away, spiraling in on itself. "I will not fail you this time," he thought and pressed on. A wall of pain slammed him back, despairing in its hopelessness and need. Rolling, he dove underneath the pain, his fear of losing that fragile light greater.

Ratchet tapped the table with his fingers, monitoring both their vitals. "Come on Prime. He needs you. How hard is that to answer?" Optimus' spark drew more energon, increasing its pulse rate. Bumblebee's held steady then fluctuated.

Bumblebee floated, lost and alone. Echoes of past torments swirled by, unable to reach his memory core. A presence was felt. Strong and aggressive, it felt like a threat. He retreated, fearing more hurt.

Optimus drew power, wrapping it around him like a shield then focused. Not on reaching but _on the why_. "My sparkling. Carrying the coding from my spark. How many times was he my joy, my hope as the orns passed. The mischief he was always getting into, the trouble he caused, only to smile and plead with those big blue optics and quivering lip plates and every mech weakened."

Bumblebee's presence felt the warmth, the echo of the love and responded, uncurling. He reached, needing reassurance and contact. And found the love he had only thought possible.

"Yes!" Ratchet cheered, seeing both spark readings surge. "Took long enough."

Optimus let Bumblebee ease out of their fusion, his support strong but not overwhelming. He focused back to the outside world, relaxing as the little yellow mech's readings improved rapidly. Ratchet leaned over him, scanning the spark with the sensors in his hand then adjusted an internal setting.

"Online...now. Easy Bumblebee. You're in med bay recovering." He said, and then moved out of the way for Optimus to be seen.

"Welcome back," he said. Ratchet grabbed for a wrench that wasn't there.

::Nice going Prime! Wisdom of the ages and that's the best you can do?:: Ratchet

::No Prime has ever faced this before:: Optimus

::Then be the mech he needs, the mech that risked his own existence to create him:: Ratchet

"Bumblebee, I'm sorry. I should have told you," Optimus began. He stopped as the bot's readings fluctuated and his optics overflowed with liquid. Ratchet pantomimed throwing wrenches, pointing at the escalating readings.

::Reach out to him not apologize:: Ratchet

"I've been an aft and failed you." Optimus said, matching his blue moist optics. "While justifying it I was helping and protecting." The little mech settled, raising one hand in protest. A big silver armored hand wrapped gently around it. "Ironhide was your guardian and I was jealous of him at times. Being with you and seeing you grow and develop. Watching you take risks and succeed. You're a good scout. No....you're a good son."


	23. Chapter 23 Flora, Fun and friends

Author's notes: Thanks thanks thanks for more reviews. And "my bad" on the animals and holographic drivers rule. It was evitable one would get duplicated in some way. Still more holo rules coming.

Pet peeve soapbox tonight. I hate reading what appears to be a good Transformer story and it turns into human world as in they are nothing more than metal humans. Sex, drinking, sleazy, vulgar, rude and crude, chasing humans either through the use of holograms or their robot forms. As if that is all a very old intelligent practical alien race would do! They don't act alien, or Transformer at all and you could remove their robot names and be any fic. Hard to find good plots sometimes.

For a serious 'alien robots as alien robots' I recommend "Instability" by Steelfeathers. Or try the Transformer Community C2- Clean as Crystal. Staff tries to keep it smut and slash free stories any one or any bot can read of any age.

And Sam is suppose to sound agitated like when brain boosted after touching the Allspark fragment or nervous. Fast, talkative and hopefully came across that way and not just yacky. Decepticons are more next couple of chapters. Onward to fast talking and calling for a ride.

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"Do not use holograms. I wish Optimus would let me make that rule," Prowl said, resisting the urge the rub a chevron tip. He alone had picked that face design and why stayed his secret as well as its hidden purpose.

"I propose this rule, Ironhide objects based on possible combat uses, Jazz and Bumblebee regarding the need to blend in the human world, and the twins delight in pointing out uses that have been beneficial. Optimus listens and nods and holograms remain. "Create a rule to prohibit misuse," he instructs me. "A rule that keeps their effectiveness while minimizing infractions." Yah, right! Nova Prime himself could not have made enough rules. No matter how wise he was according to our legends." His internal comm signal triggered, non-emergency medical coding.

::You busy?:: Ratchet

::Why do you always start a conversation with that phrasing instead of telling me what you need? Would save time stating what you want:: Prowl asked, crossing his arms, their white color distinct on his black police markings.

::Because I'm use to dealing with mechs who argue, avoid me or resist?:: Ratchet

:Complaining, refusing medical treatment or attempting to delay repairs is not logical. You will repair us. In addition, the question remains. Where do you need me?::

::Med bay. Bumblebee needs an attendant. Ironhide and Optimus are in recharge:: Ratchet

::When did you recharge last?:: Prowl asked, already closing down his data pads, preparatory to leaving his office. 'If Ratchet is asking for help, he must be on his last cables,' the second in command reasoned.

::Not your concern. Monitoring Bumblebee is:: Ratchet sounded tired and a bit exasperated.

::On my way:: Prowl sent, slightly offended the medic didn't trust him with the precise answer then balanced. He knew the medic cared for each Autobot and guarded their secrets, as he did. "I'll ignore this last field report, since it involves Bumblebee," Prowl reasoned. "Review it after med bay. Though If they'd try that hard to obey the rules instead of ways around them I'd have less reports daily."

The clip on the nightly news, commentary in the local newspaper and internet blogging had informed him of the general incident involving Bumblebee and Jazz. Prime had found the incident amusing and commended them for their thinking. Prowl was just glad it was not caught on any video feed of any type.

_79. Do not play the song hokey pokey on base except as requested by humans at dances. Never repeat play endlessly on prisoners in the brig. That constitutes cruel and unusual punishment. _*Bumblebee, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, and Ironhide.

_80. Do not send human clothing via the mail, as a present to those humans encountered and not known to NEST forces. _*Jazz and a black leather pants belt.

_102. Do not turn holographic drivers into landscaping items including rocks, plants and trees. _

Returning to Diego Garcia, both mechs, in their alt forms, had pulled into a roadside rest area. A damaged bridge was being repaired and the way across was blocked for two hours by the human construction crew. Jazz noticed the vehicle first.

"And I thought you drove bad 'Bee," He joked, watching the older sedan hit the curb pulling in then attempted to parked sideways across the lanes. The yellow and black Camaro made a raspberry sound only to break off into static. "No using your vocalizer. You ever get tired of feeling that hurt?"

The human, an older balding overweight male opened the door, belching loudly. A beer can fell out, rolling away. Through the open door, they could see trash and crushed beer cans. He stood up, leaning on the door before ambling slowly towards the rest room and past the bots. His pants slipped down, displaying a wide section of skin.

"Ewwww." Jazz groaned, shuttering his external sensors.

::Did you see what I see? Look again:: Bumblebee

"I don't want to see! Once was enough thanks." Jazz answered pretending to shift away.

:::In the backseat Jazz! There are two sparklings, neither in child seats:: Bumblebee

The special operations mech looked and felt his temper rising. "That is plain stupid man. Doesn't he value their sparks?"

::We cannot interfere without proof of endangerment, not even with our holographic drivers:: Bumblebee

"Still ain't right. Here comes Mister Wonderful now."

The man reached in the car, throwing the beer cans out. The little boy tapped the backseat window glass, motioning he wanted out. Sneering, the man opened the door then began digging around the front seat, ignoring the kids. The boy grabbed his smaller sister, helping her down to the ground.

:That's it!" Jazz snarled as the man found a beer can, promptly opening it and guzzling. "I'm calling the cops. And those sparklings are staying with us. You still got that pizza left from Sam?"

::Yes, still in the backseat. Cold but edible. Children won't accept from strangers. How will we do this?:: Bumblebee asked then reviewed the data packet sent his way. He signaled back a total readiness as the man began yelling for the kids.

"You put your left foot out, you bring your left foot in," song began playing without a defined source. All three humans froze, glancing around nervously. The man stepped towards the kids, yelling again, gesturing for them to get back in.

"Useless brats. Taking them to their mother. What the!" He flinched, as a very large boulder rolled against his door. "You see that?" He asked the children then noticed they were watching the bushes.

"You put your right arm in, you bring your right arm back," and the ground bushes moved. No, they danced to the melody, hopping forward then back. The children laughed, moving with them as the song continued.

The boulder rolled around between the man and the children then bounced up and down, forcing him back against the car. The bushes encircled the children, beginning to bloom with bright pink and blue flowers, bringing them closer to the Camaro. Growling, the man sprinted around the rock to have his feet knocked out from under him. Crashing down, he gasped as a tree loomed over him. A giant oak, without leaves waved its branches to the song then changed. Like a nightmare, its branches became clawed arms and its main bark split into a mouth with massive spiked teeth. Screaming, he cowered while the song continued.

The state patrol arrived shortly and found an intoxicated male in the middle of the parking lot, cowering and babbling about monster plants. His two children were eating pizza and talking to the young blonde teenager in black jeans and yellow striped shirt alongside his Camaro. The officer called their mom then loaded them into the patrol car, thanking the stranger for calling. He never answered, only smiled.

"Drinking makes people see things." The officer said, looking around and seeing only a restroom building on a large flat grass area. "You be safe going home now son." The youth nodded, giving a thumbs up before climbing behind the steering wheel. He winked at the silver solstice parked alongside before disappearing.

::Bet Prowl makes a rule on this?:: Bumblebee

::You going to tell him?:: Jazz

::Nope. No rule then:: Bumblebee laughed as they started their engines and drove off. The officer told his sergeant at the station who told his girlfriend, the reporter. She did a general interest story on children left with unsuitable fathers and offerings of help poured in for the single mother. Recovering from cancer, strangers helped her with cleaning her little house, taking the kids to school and their basic needs. The father got jail time for probation violation while driving intoxicated. And never had a yard again, only apartments and duplexes for him.

_87. Do not encourage humans in their attractions to or for our race. _

Prowl didn't know how long the list had existed or who even had started it. The single confiscated document contained multiple variations of handwriting, mech magnetic echoes and human fingerprints. The sentence across the top was enough to cause Prowl's logic glitch to activate. "You know you're addicted to Transformers when:

_1.) Someone says Transformers and you look up for a mech or femme and not a power pole attachment. _

_2.) You use terms like sparkling, youngling, mech, femme, aft or slag. _

_3.) Someone says "wrench" and you duck, looking for a yellow green mad medic. _

_4.) "Prime" is not the highest command position you can think of. _

_5.) You fleshlings wish you had an alt form _

_6.) You wish you had cannons like Ironhide _

_7.) You wish you ipod / Zune / MP3 player had half the songs Bumblebee does. _

Prowl began logic calculations. Necessity of adding more indexes and explanations: 100%. Probable final tally: slightly less than calculating Pi to its final numbers. Main culprits: Usual list, first and foremost Twins, weapons specialist Ironhide, Bumblebee and human attachments Lennox, Epps and NEST. Recommendation: Store list and update as required.

_113. Do not acknowledge the existence of Decepticon pretenders, mini drone bots who can assume the appearance of human females, to any governmental authority, and never to Samuel Witwicky, Mikeala Banes, or Leo Spitz. _

Sam whistled, planning the week at college ahead. "Sweet. No math class, tested out of it. English is no class time required, on our own time researching a famous author. Already did in high school. A few revisions here, some notes there and turn it in again." He nodded at two girls, who ignored him, as they were texting, talking and walking all at the same time. Skipping down the stairs, he passed the library west entrance, still feeling a bit sheepish about the new archway. "It was that drone. Do not go there Sam. This is a party week." He nearly tripped, catching a loose shoestring. He bent down to tie it, still whistling.

"Hey Jamie, the list for movie week is out!" A tall redhead brushed by him, nearly stepping on his hand.

"Don't mind me," He muttered softly, picking up his books. "Just helped save the world twice. Died doing it by the way."

"First day, the Alien movies! Imagine something with tentacles in you." She waved her hands, nearly smacking Sam. He backed up, trying to get around them both.

"Ewwww. Up your nose or mouth and down your throat." Her friend added, giggling.

The right side of Sam's face began to twitch as he flashed back to the warehouse before Egypt. He felt the little Decepticon medic drone, Scalpel probing his mind, pulling out the Cybertron symbols. Suddenly panting, the boy jogged down the walkway until reaching the gardens.

"Get a grip Witwicky. Scalpel is dead. Optimus offlined him. You know that. You saw that." he shuddered, wiping his face with a sweaty hand.

"Hey Alice? Oh Alice," a male voice called out seductively. A blonde young woman wearing a distinctive blue dress and white shoes jumped out in front of Sam, yelling as he yelled. "Oh sorry. I thought you were Robbie. Like my costume? Alice and Wonderland is the theme in my dorm this week."

Heart racing, "Alice?" He stuttered, flashing back to the predator drone that had attacked him in his own dorm room just as Mikeala had arrived. "Got to go, having a slight mental breakdown thanks." He ran for the dorm, not caring it was clear across campus. Slowing mid way, he tried to get his breath. Various conversations in the quad area only made it worse.

"Close encounters of the third kind on Friday. Imagine seeing strange stuff."

"Bot wars tonight. Man, giant versions would be so wicked. Stomp and squish whoever you wanted. "

"Field trip in the desert next summer. Hunting for lost tombs."

Twitching and near a full blown fit, Sam ran up into his dorm, up the stairs, through the hallways, not slowing until reaching his room, jumping inside and slamming the door.

"Witwicky!"

"ARRGGHHGHGH!" He screamed, cowering into a little ball, dropping his books.

"Man," Leo said, bending down to get a better look at him. "You need therapy bro. And if you're getting therapy, it isn't helping." He picked up the scattered books, backing away slowly.

"Don't need therapy. Need time with the Autobots. Yah, that's what I need. " He stood up, pale and sweaty. "My phone?" He glanced around, spotting it on the floor by his bed. He dove for it, dialing a special reserved number known only to a few humans. "C'mon 'Bee, pick up." The Cybertronian equivalent of voice mail kicked on, beeping a tone no machine on earth could duplicate.

"Hey it's me. I mean it's Sam. But you know that. I know you know that. You know my voice after all we've been through together right? I reconsidered about this week and I'm free. Totally clear and free. So give me a call back and let me know when and where and I'll be there. I'll so be there. No rush, will there is but no emergency. I just need off campus for a break. Yah, a nice long break. Anyways give me a call. It's Sam. Your friend and I need you buddy. So please call."

He flopped down on the bed, the cell phone in his hands as his breathing slowed a little.

"Can I ask you something that I really need to know?" Leo began, running ah and through his frizzy hair before sitting at the desk by Sam. "Can those dudes snap their fingers?"

"Huh?"

"You know, snap their fingers," Leo demonstrated, snapping his thumb and forefinger twice. "I bet they can. Robowarrior says not. They're like metal dude, he types. The snap sound is made as soft skin moves. And metal don't move. I told him they could snap, pop or any sound they want with metal, speed and those giant fingers. So tell me I'm right. I'm right huh? C'mon, tell me I'm right."

Sam blinked, wanting to snap something on his roommate right about then when an incoming call lit up the cell phone. "Big Bot" was the caller id. "Hello? 'Bee is that you? You get a new ID? Please tell me that's you 'Bee."

"Sam? Are you in danger?" the deep baritone and steady voice of Optimus, last prime and leader of the Autobots asked from the other end of the signal.

"No, no danger. Need out of here. But it's cool. Yah, everything is cool. Is Bumblebee okay? I dialed his number. I know it was his. Why are you answering? Is something wrong, I need to know and..."

"Calm down, calm down Sam." Optimus interrupted. "Your guardian is fine. Ratchet is upgrading his system. He was concerned when he heard your message and asked I communicate with you."

"I need a ride. Not home but to you guys, PLEASE!" he begged, not caring how immature or stressed he sounded. "See my friends, hey why not? I owe you guys for saving the world and me so why wouldn't I want to spend time with you?"

"We owe you much Samuel James Witwicky." Optimus intoned, reverently.

"Tell you what, pick me up here, today and we call it even. How does that sound?" the human interrupted. Silence met his request on the cell phone while Leo pointedly ignored him, ordering pizza online.

"Can you be ready in one hour?" His voice, even with its alien mechanical overtones, coming through a tiny cell speaker was the most beautiful sound at that minute.

"Ready now. I'll pack and be waiting at the avenue of flags."

"Until then Sam." the call disconnected. He hugged the phone to his chest, praying in thanks before springing around the room, randomly grabbing clothes to stuff into a bag and shot out the door. Forty-five minutes later a silver Hercules military jet soared overhead, tipping its wings once as though in greeting before soaring up and out of view.

"Silverbolt." Sam grinned, recognizing the Aerialbot's flying. Less than five minutes later a familiar Peterbilt semi truck with red and blue flames pulled into the parking lot.

Optimus barely opened the passenger door before Sam had jumped in, sat down, buckling the seat belt in place inside his cab. He rolled back for the main road and rendezvous point, scanning Sam intently. 'No obvious trauma or injuries are confirmed,' he distinguished, finding only signs of heightened stress and exhaustion in the boy. Silverbolt had scanned the area, confirming no Decepticon activity before allowing Optimus to approach.

"Are you okay Sam?" He asked, concerned the teen had not said anything when he had been non-stop on the call.

"I am now." He sighed, stretching out his legs while patting the seat. "I'm tired and safe. That's all."

The windows darkened as the holographic driver vanished. "I am a sleeper cab. You may recline in the back if needed."

"Really? I never thought to notice." He blushed, mentally kicking himself. 'They duplicate what they scan to the last detail. You know that from Bumblebee.' He unlocked the seatbelt, reaching across and moving the curtain. A normal flat bed was hidden in the bunk space. "You sure it's okay?"

"Yes. Nothing shall harm you here. Recharge as needed." He comforted, more like a parent than an ancient alien warrior. He watched as the young human stretched out, turned on his side and fell into recharge almost immediately. Optimus turned off the main road, heading for the local airport.

Silverbolt lowered onto the runway, slowing but not landing as Optimus roared up his ramp smoothly and into the cargo area. Ground control never had time to yell as the hatch closed and the plane soared up then went supersonic. Sam never moved, deep asleep. Optimus guarded and realized the human had become his human 'son'. "Primus, let us win this war for them and their descendants and ours." The internal comm interrupted his next thought.

::Is Sam alright?:: Bumblebee

::Sleeping. Appears exhausted:: Optimus

::All college students are. More party and personal life than schooling. Arrive soon?:: Bumblebee asked.

::Yes. And I will spend time with you both. As family, not a Prime. Is that acceptable?:: Optimus

The surge of love and need echoing back was nearly overwhelming. He laughed, ::I'll take that as a yes! Perhaps Mikeala can attend also?::Optimus

::Already on it big bot.:: Bumblebee sent brightly then hesitated. ::And thank you::

::For retrieving Sam? My pleasure:: Optimus

::For me and Sam. For being there for us:: Bumblebee sent before closing the comm line.


	24. Chapter 24 Little steps and missteps

Author's Notes: I tried posting this since Friday night but ff site was having issues. Have it posted finally. Thank you for the reviews and adding to favorite stories, chapter alerts and favorite author. Glad everyone enjoys the side plots in and around the rules. They will continue and while I am glad for specific character requests I can only add so much at a time. Requests will be answered, even if it takes a bit. Adding Elita -1 is posing a bit of a problem. I haven't forgotten Cliffjumper or Blurr. Adding Decepticons next then more twins' mayhem.

And five cups of energon to the first mech or femme that hunts down, rips out the spark of the automated spell checker! #$^$& thing turns itself back on. Last chapter should have read "Prime is NOW the highest rank and it got changed to noT because of a typo. I have had about enough of the spell checker on Word. Grrrr. *hears Ratchet coming* Time to go!

Breem is 8.3 minutes, Joor is 6.5 hours, Orn is 13 days and Vorn is 83 years. And I DO have a license plate frame that reads "My other car is an Autobot." Onward to little feet and little missteps.

TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR

Prowl held the official memo and resisted the urge to crumple it into the nearest recycling basket. Instead, he scanned it, verifying multiple fingerprints and mech's magnetic echoes were on it. "To all personnel,' it's addressed. Making sure everyone has a reason to see it and add to it," he noted, flipping the first page over. On back was the continuation of the list "You know you're addicted to Transformers when: 8. You get a glyph tattoo that a Transformer has. 9. Sunny & Sides doesn't refer to a breakfast order but twin trouble. 10. Your license plate frame reads '_my other vehicle is an Autobot' _11. You know the name of at least 10 aliens and only 5 of your own relatives. 12. Someone says "Bumblebee" and you look around for a yellow Camaro. 13. Your personal ad online starts with 'looking for sparkmate w/ beautiful personality and protoform.'

::Prowl, Ratchet, Wheeljack report to the air strip with my trailer. Incoming wounded from last engagement. Rendezvous with Silverbolt and NEST cargo jets. ETA under one breem :: Optimus

::How many how bad?:: Ratchet asked, as all three mechs responded from their respective locations. Prowl and Ironhide kept quiet, letting the medic get the information he needed first.

::Two lesser injuries but one is Grimlock. He's stuck half in half out of alt mode, unable to walk or crawl. Need help carrying him. His transformation program is stuck in a loop. The processor is under his chest plates, below the spark and inaccessible. Other is Jazz. Optics are burned out as are audio receivers. Internal comm only:: Optimus

::Decepticons?:: Ironhide

::Two offlined. Third escaped with major damage:: Optimus

_95. When yelled at, "why didn't you kill that Decepticon?" do not answer:_

_a. What do you think I was trying to doing by shooting at it?_

_b. Yes, those plasma grenades, cannon blasts and energon sword were so playing patty cake with him weren't they?_

_c. He sends the most beautiful Christmas cards every year and I would so miss getting one. _

_d. This week's budget only allowed my five battle kill rockets and that was my sixth battle._

_e. If you could do better, you attack him next time! _

_f. I wanted, '_plays nice with others'_, on my report card._

_g. He has the same armor, weapons and battle experience but we're stuck with you on our side! _

_h. If I kill him then I have to eat him and I'm not hungry. Had a liaison's car for breakfast. _

_i. It's Tuesday. Wounding badly but not offlining. Thursday is blowing sparks to fragments and Friday is slice and dice with a sword..._

_j. He was four times my size, three times my fire power and I took his knees out! You stood there and screamed._

_k. I am awaiting paperwork approval from the EPA - Environmental Protection Agency to spill energon, a known hazardous substance onto the ground and surrounding vegetation._

_l. Because Ravage was the super point bonus and extra life this round, he was only worth five points._

_m. My blaster jammed. Wait, it's clear. Let's test it. (point at person yelling)_

_n. Because one of the things on my to do list before I offline was to get yelled at by a fleshling. Next, chase a fleshling into the sea._

Optimus looked at the remains of his silver trailer, the damage looking dreadful but the chassis and under carriage systems basically intact. The sides and top were torn. 'No, shredded,' he thought. 'Grimlock's systems reset, allowing transform without guidance.'

"It can be repaired," Ratchet reminded, his arm still in its traction sling. Large puncture marks marred its' surface, posing a challenge to the repair nannites. "The trip off base to get it fixed will be good for you. Visit Sam and Bumblebee without it being a world class emergency."

"I almost think you had this planned to make me rest."

"If I had Prime, being bit by a large Tyrannosaurs Rex transform while repairing said mech would not have been in it." The medic frowned, narrowing his optics.

"He apologized."

"After helping me dig Brawn out of the pavement from being stepped on. We really should do something about size difference in the forces around here." He looked over and up at Optimus.

"Spark strength determines general size and military upgrades the rest. See, I have listened to your lectures." He looked down, winking one optic.

"They were instructions and you need to get going before I lecture you about respecting the one mech who can put you back together after one of your brilliant battle plans include you being Swiss cheesed by Decepticons."

"Least you admit my plans are brilliant." Optimus laughed then ducked a flying wrench. "I'm going, I'm going."

_99. Do not fail to upload and update rules, laws, regulations and ordinances from city, county, state, federal, municipal, townships, burroughs and regions as relating to driving on freeways, highways, interstates, toll roads, bridges, streets, county roads and unpaved roads. *_Any Autobot with wheels and not wings.

_100. Do not forget to maintain the exterior alt vehicle form, license plates, renewal tabs or specialty permits as required by human laws. _

Optimus slowed, letting the red Honda merge into his lane from the right. He had seen the younger driver look over seconds before he had simply steered the car into that lane. Processors faster and more sophisticated than ever imagined by engineers on earth, calculated speed, distance, the mass of the silver thirty-six foot semi-trailer he was pulling, other vehicles and objects in all directions before slowing his energon drive, allowing the human driven vehicle to move over and not cause an accident.

"And the twins say driving is relaxing." Optimus mused, watching the red car continue weaving in and out of traffic, nearly missing another collision as it sped ahead. "One third of my battle systems are engaged to prevent an accident and it's the middle of the night on a four lane highway. How do humans do this?"

His audio receptors caught the faint sound of an emergency siren approaching up the side onramp. A quick check confirmed he had the appropriate headlights and taillights on and holographic driver in place, though his image never moved. The black and white State Patrol vehicle maneuvered through the light traffic until it was directly behind him. Optimus anticipated his path, moving to the far left lane, careful to not sway the empty trailer he was towing, to let the officer continue, assuming that was his intentions.

"He moved behind me? Wants this lane." Optimus clicked on his right turn signal, waiting for a space large enough to allow his extended length, moving over to that lane with the patrol car following. Beginning to feel exasperated, he moved over to the last driving lane, the patrol car again changing, lights and sirens in use. "I'm being pulled over?" he sputtered, slowing and moving off the road onto the side. He balanced securely on the uneven gravel side, waiting for the officer to approach. Computations of fleeing, transforming and confronting the human in his true 28 foot tall plus protoform, or removing the driver image and let the human figure out how a truck drove itself flashed through his main core before vanishing. The rules for changing drivers into other things file opened, was reviewed, decided against then closed. "I'm not a youngling to be irresponsible. However, it is tempting. What is he looking at?"

The officer shined his flashlight on Optimus main license plate before climbing up the metal steps and bracing on the door, tapping the window with his flashlight. The side window rolled down silently, without the driver touching it. "Is there a problem officer?" The image asked, making no sudden moves. Registration and licensing lay on the dash nearby, ready for inspection.

"You passed a weigh station two miles back big fellow. I don't know where you come from, but laws here require you pull in and get weighed, empty or full. But you should know that Prime." The officer stated, his clear blue eyes glancing around the interior cab.

"Prime?" Optimus' mental processes skipped a fraction of a second before scanning the vehicle behind him. It blinked its headlights once. "Prowl!"

"If I was Megatron you'd be toast by now." He tipped his hat back, leaning on the window frame, the image displaying a smug grin.

"If you were Megatron you'd be on the side of the road pouring out energon." He growled back.

"And a real officer would ticket you for scale dodging and expired registration tabs. The vehicle you scanned updated them a year ago according to a records search. Yours still show the original date. Get Hound or Wheeljack to update your alt details. In addition, you are going too fast in the left lane, stay in the right. Trucks are generally prohibited in the others except for passing and your limit is 55 mpg, not 65 like cars." The Autobot security officer and second in command finished, pretending to consult his notepad.

Optimus gauged the speed acceleration necessary to back into or over Prowl then erased the thought. "What are you doing out here?"

"NEST detected a comet inbound, thought it might be one of us. Negative trajectory. Normal space rock, burned up in the atmosphere. Took me six joors to confirm. Heading back. Detected you and wanted to ask, well that is," He stopped, looking sheepish.

"Need a ride?" He scanned Prowl again, noting how dirty the alt mode was.

"Please?"

"Hop in." The officer disappeared as Prime lowered the trailer door. 'He must be tired. If he's recharged in the last nine joors I'd be surprised.' Traffic was light and no one paid particular attention to the patrol car as it rolled up in the trailer back. Or the door that raised and closed itself. Optimus accelerated back in traffic, careful not to jostle the trailer. 'Right lane, 55 mph only. Could be worse. The first vehicle I saw the night we landed was a greyhound bus. Wonder how that would have gone.'

_115. Do not change, interfere, or alter any other Autobot's holograms unless specifically authorized by said Autobot, Optimus Prime and his command staff and resulting changes are deemed safe and have been tested._ *Twins, Wheeljack and Hound. (Annabelle could have guessed this one)

"Are you sure these things are safe?" Hound asked, looking suspiciously at the new holo emitter units staged in his wrists. He stood in the center of Wheeljack's research lab, surrounded by testing control towers. "I really need my hands. Explosions at the wrists would be rather inconvenient."

"Ratchet cleared them. Nannites emitters combined with random patterning energizing light refracting…" Wheeljack trailed off, looking up and noticing Hound's blank look. "Next generation holograms that feel solid."

"Sounds great. What's the downside?" He watched as his wrist plating resealed. The faintest hum and they initialized, linking into to his power systems.

"Why do you assume there's a problem?" The scientist turned away, the reddish orange color of his facial sidebars betraying his confident tone. He typed quickly, activating emergency standbys.

"Experience." The green scout quipped.

"They use more power, okay, lots more power. When the hologram is in its most solid form, the main processors have to be in a holding mode."

"As in close to stasis lock non-moving target for weapons fire holding mode?" Hound asked, not really wanting to know the answer and hoping he was wrong.

"Yes."

**NEST off-site Warehouse, Two days later. **

Ironhide rolled in, the warehouse doors closing silently before engaging security locks. Sam Witwicky waved to the little girl secured in the black car seat. "Hey kiddo. You're getting heavier," he joked, lifting her down before undoing the car seat straps.

"She'll never be too heavy." Ironhide stated, transforming to his bi pedal mode, nodding to the assembled Autobots. They chirped and called to each other in Cybertronian as Sam helped Annabelle get out of her jacket. "Learning lots in school?

"No, not really." She answered, shrugging and frowning. He reached down and pulled off her shoes, knowing she liked to run around in socks.

"Why's that? Kindergarten should be fun. No tests or mid-terms. Like I have," he muttered jealously.

"They don't teach important stuff. I can already read and write my name in two languages." She stated proudly.

"Two? Wow. Which two?"

"English and Cybertronian main of course. The ancient language of the Primes is harder. But Ironhide is teaching me. Then I'll know three." She held up three fingers, missing his twitching reaction. "They're ready." She pointed up at the Autobots, now watching them.

"We are grateful for your assistance in this test Sam and Annabelle." Optimus said.

"Remember to use all your senses, especially tactical." Wheeljack reminded, turning his data recorders on.

"The holograms should feel and react as real as you two, not just seem solid." Hound reminded, watching the internal clock counting down their test start as a group.

"_It's the end of the world as we know it_," song clip played from Bumblebee. The others glared down at him except Optimus who fought to keep from smiling.

BEEP BEEP BEEP – TEST COMMENCING

Six holograms formed then solidified before the humans. Annabelle gasped, her hands going to her mouth as her eyes got huge. Sam's jaw dropped open as his breathing nearly stopped.

"Bumblebee, did you increase the height of your hologram?" Optimus asked as the young bot stared then began shaking. "Bee, what's wrong?"

"We're younglings!"Prowl yelled, pointing around.

Young human children and one teen hologram stood in a loose semi circle. All were blue eyed and dressed as differently as could be. Optimus appeared to be a toddler by age, the youngest and smallest with little brown boots, blue coveralls with a little red truck sewn on the front pocket, curly brown hair and a mini train conductor's cap. Ratchet matched Annabelle's age and height with red curly hair, dressed in blue medic scrubs, complete with a little strap mask hanging around his neck. Hound was a blonde fine featured six year old wearing a Boy Scout uniform, complete with a half filled badge strap. Prowl was a western sheriff. Frilly pants, leather sleeveless jacket over a white shirt with a gold star on his chest and on the center of his white cowboy hat. Ironhide wore a red shirt and brown shorts with gold chest plating and gold helmet with a big red feather. A plastic sword was strapped at his waist.

"Roman soldier," Sam realized, trying to control his laughing. 'They look cute but their voices are normal. Normal for robots.' And he lost it, laughing, collapsing beside Bumblebee whose normal teen hologram was literally rolling with laughter though no sound was actually heard.

"Yeah!" Annabelle cheered, jumping up and down before running to Ironhide's hologram. "You're my size. We can play pretend for real!"

Optimus closed his eyes, not optics but eyes he realized, perceiving nothing but darkness. 'Oh frag,' he swore. Concentrating, he tried to disconnect from the hologram perceptions and activate his main body. Nothing happened. The little boy's image wavered in and out then solidified. 'I'm going to brig those twins and change their holograms to Cybertronian tunnel dusters for this. No, the repair bots to the tunnel dusters. After I run them both over.' A light touch on his arm caused him to open his eyes. Ratchet was peering down at him.

"Prime, what's wrong?"

"Can anyone disconnect?" Optimus asked, watching as each tried and failed. "Internal comms are out. Options?"

"Manually disconnect the units." Hound and Wheeljack said at the same time then looked down and away.

Prowl figured it out first, then explained. "Even if we climbed up there, how do we get under the armor to disconnect the unit? No weapons, no tools and no way to call for help."

"We must find a solution. The warehouse doors are secured and the humans have no food or water. NEST may not check on us for some time and our forms are vulnerable to attack." Optimus stated, sitting down on his own blue foot pad. "Anybot? Anything?"

"We could play patty cake," Annabelle suggested.

_To be continued……_


	25. Chapter 25 Things are not what they seem

Author's Notes: Sorry for the cliffhangers but it's a spacing issue. If it all were crammed in one chapter, it would be a rules fic and a mini story running excessively long, but too short for a standalone fic. In addition, the side stories are often different from humor and are harder to switch mental processes and write. My processors need the break in-between.

I have no tattoos but seriously considered getting the Autobot symbol in red. Second choice was on my left front chest, just below the shoulder. That is where I would display the symbol on my transform. First choice is my right foot, sideways on the bottom / sole / arch. I do the martial arts, and the style kicks the foot sideways a lot. Not use the toes, as they tend to break when kicking hard. Ouch owie! Therefore, we use whole foot or heel. Imagine about to be kicked and seeing the Autobot symbol on the center of the bottom of my foot?

Thanks to reviewers and your e-mails. Rule 86 is based on one. More to come. And the use of different names is hinted at in comics and other places like the cartoons without specifying what Ironhide's was. I liked the concept and added it here. I can't imagine a alien race on a metal planet, thousands to millions of years ago using "Hound" for instance who happens to be a scout and appropriate earth name easily to be pronounced for a mech. Onward to human boo boos and things are not what they seem.

TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR

_86. Do not use special abilities or advanced design capabilities around humans without warning them about potential consequences when attempting to duplicate._

Up on the metal communications platform, Major Lennox frowned at the approaching human chief medical officer, seeing him carrying a stack of files and heading directly for Lennox's side office. "Epps take over," he ordered, straightening his uniform and nodding towards the approaching medic. The black Sergeant grinned, waving a goodbye and have fun motion.

"Can I help?" the major asked once reaching floor level.

"I doubt it. These," he jiggled the report pile, "are problems with Transformer interactions."

"Interactions as in?" He mentally stomped on the dirty thoughts his mind conjured.

"Those robots should come with warnings," The medic stated, walking into the office, dumping them on the center of the desk. "Jolt can drain and carry electrical energy. Four humans have been zapped since."

"He hurt them? That is for Prime to handle, not me." Lennox said, upset at missing those injuries.

"No, they touched a power unit or live powered switch after seeing him, not reading amperage warnings. Monkey see monkey do monkey get fried! Ironhide can dive and roll with his cannons firing. Three men have been hurt, one severely, trying to copy that. Rolling and firing a weapon takes practice and timing. The severely hurt one had a pierced liver when a broken rib punctured it. He rolled forward right off an embankment. Optimus Prime tackled that monster in Shanghai. Last copy attempt of that resulted in both men getting knocked out when their heads collided."

"Ouch," Lennox winced, figuring they were half way through discussing the incident files.

"Neither had brains to rattle." The physician shook his head then looked pained, crossing his legs before continuing. "Sideswipe is a sword master like nothing this earth has seen. Fourteen men have stabbed, sliced or scraped themselves, including one partial castration, trying to copy his sword flips and spins. Two have wrecked vehicles trying to duplicate Sunstreaker's sliding stop entrance. Several jeeps were crashed after Hound ran the obstacle course in his alt form."

"Have to appreciate the men trying." Lennox joked, feeling sick and guilty at not tracking the incidents himself. 'Too much time out in the field hunting the enemy. Not enough protecting my troops.'

"You talk with Optimus Prime or I will." The physician ordered, picking up the files. "This is NEST, not 'alien ways to off myself.'"

_91. Do not change holographic drivers to roadside convenience equipment including but not limited to mailboxes, telephones, or trash cans. _*Jazz, Bumblebee, Hound and Trailbreaker.

Prowl twitched, dangerously close to offlining with his logic glitch as he reviewed the latest patrol report. "Mailbox? A holographic driver shaped mailbox threatened a human gang of younglings? Do they work at avoiding my rules?!"

Bumblebee and Jazz waited for Sam and Mikeala at the local ice cream shop. The Autobots didn't eat but enjoyed the laughs and smiled the cold confection seemed to create in the humans who ate it. "If around humans, pick happy ones." Jazz reasoned. Bumblebee agreed with anything that made his humans happy. He knew he loved them as equals and seeing them together happy was all the better. His greatest fear was anything happening to either of them, leaving the other alone or broken. Late night talks with Ratchet and Ironhide had reassured him about the situation.

"Physically and mentally Sam and Mikeala are attracted powerfully to each other. Their experiences build on that," Ratchet showed him the medical scans and readings as proof.

"Don't fret youngling. You'll be there for them. We'll be here for you." Ironhide patted his head plates, as though he was a sparkling.

"Bumblebee! West side, far block." Jazz interrupted his memory review.

He scanned the youths, recognizing their tattoos and gang clothes. Number: four. Weapons: Nine knives, two switchblades, two handguns, small caliber 22's. Plain ammunition loaded within. Probable threat to self: Minimal in alt mode or protoform. Threat to Sam and Mikeala without intervention: High

Inside the restaurant, Sam picked up his buzzing phone, getting a text message. _::Stay inside a bit. Working on surprise. Stay with Mikeala :: Yellow Prime :_: Sam flipped the phone around, letting Mikeala read the message. They continued eating their shared banana super split, discussing what the surprise could be.

Outside the teens stopped in the alley, pulling out their spray paint cans, leaving obscene graffiti. They finished, turning to find a mailbox sitting dead center of the alley. "Watch this!" the leader chortled, shaking his paint can. He sprayed, missing as the mailbox rocked to the right. Then to the left, back and forward, each time missing getting sprayed. The phone on the wall rang loudly, its phone book below swinging wildly side to side.

"This is getting too weird guys. I'm outta here." The first teen left, running and not looking back. The second left when the mailbox began spitting out envelopes.

"I ain't scared." The leader said, motioning the remaining teen towards the phone. "Answer it! Shoot it. For someone comes to see."

Pulling up his sagging pants, the youth shrieked like a girl, the phone book lashing out on its chain, nearly missing his head. The book opened, snapping and growling on its chain leash. The mailbox burped and spit out a severed bloody human arm and hand, still holding a letter. Shrieking, both youths ran away. On the street, a yellow and black Camaro and silver Pontiac solstice bounced with laughter, the holograms disappearing.

::What's the surprise for Sam and Mikeala? That alley never happened as far as they know:: Jazz asked.

::I got them outdoor concert tickets for tomorrow. Their favorite band. Optimus had to pull cords ? Ribbon? Strings ? Whatever the phrase is to get them::

::Outdoor huh? So we can listen in too? Smart thinking little bot. Smart thinking:: Jazz

_120. Do not confuse humans with multiple names for the same mech or femme. _

Sergeant Epps looked at the battle report, trying to decode the Cybertronian glyphs on the following pages. Five years before no reports would have been put on paper. Two years ago, before the Egypt sun reaper incident he would have asked verbally for a report. Now, it was on paper. Giving up in frustration, he handed it to Annabelle. "I need the names translated."

"These three," she pointed out in different lines, "all mean Ironhide."

"How? They're different. Oh wait; his cannons have names or his title?" The sergeant guessed.

"No silly. Prowl wrote this line. See, his real name is here at the start. Prowl uses their Cybertron names. Ironhide wrote this using Ironhide, his earth name. And here Optimus wrote the last lines. That's Ironhide's young name. Before he became a bodyguard. I can't say it but it's neat."

"What was it?" The Sergeant asked, knowing better than to ask Ironhide himself.

Giggling, Annabelle shook her head no side to side. "I promised and friends don't break promises. He told me Optimus young name was Orion Pax. See, that's here where Ironhide did his lines. They do that back and forth. Like you and daddy swearing at each other."

"We don't swear, we joke. And no repeating what you hear either!"

"I know." She folded her hands above her head. "If I tell no more racing at night, sneaking out for ice cream or helping fix other Autobots. I'm good at it. Hatchet, uhm Ratchet says I'm tiny enough to reach the bad stuff he can't. I'm faster than moving it all. Oops!" She covered her mouth with her hands as her eyes got big.

"Secret!" Epps lifted up his right hand, palm out. "I keep secrets too. Ice cream huh? No one ever invites me. Have to see about that." He watched the little girl transcribe names, letting his thoughts drift. 'Six years old, starting first grade and already smart. I pity her dad when she's a teenager.'

**NEST off-site Warehouse (pt 2)**

Ironhide suddenly swung his plastic toy sword up, blue eyes bright. "Annabelle," he called the little girl over. "Do you still have the necklace I made you?"

"Uh huh. In my backpack. Too heavy to wear." She nodded then followed him as he opened the backpack and began searching through it. Grinning, Ironhide's little soldier hologram held up her necklace triumphantly, pressing it with both hands.

"Tracker?" Prowl guessed, wondering how he kept getting things built for the human without it being reported.

"Distress signal, Autobot specific frequency, narrow beam. Don't want the 'cons intercepting it."

"Estimated time until it's answered?"Ratchet's little doctor form asked.

"Not long," he replaced the necklace, not meeting anyone's eyes. "Chromia will try contacting me and with no answer, come herself. We discussed what to do if it was ever used."

"You protect Annabelle more than her own parents. You sure you weren't a femme in a former transform?" Hound's boy scout form asked.

"No. And unless you want to be a trash compactor in your next one, drop it." He held out both arms straight, and then lowered them with a heavy sigh. "I miss my cannons already."

Two hours passed when the sounds of motorcycles neared. Motorcycles revved at a deeper and higher rpm than any earth made vehicle.

**KABOOM!**

The security doors blew apart into fragments, barely falling when three Autobot femme warriors raced in on their wheels, circling them.

"Nice entrance," Prowl commented. "I think you left one fragment of wood in the upper corner."

"Hi kids," Arcee rolled up, lowering on her purple chassis. "Do you know what is wrong with our friends?"

"I am Optimus Prime," the smallest boy said.

"Prime? Right, nice try little guy. Where are your parents?"

Ultra Magnus rolled in, transforming from his car carrier mode, interrupting the conversation. "Aerialbots are landing on the perimeter now. What's with all the younglings?" The hologram kids all started talking at once, explaining they were the Autobots and what had gone wrong. The femmes and mech listened, trying to understand what they were hearing.

"You are Prime?" Ultra Magnus finally asked, kneeling then crouching to get a better look. "And I thought I was the little brother."

"When I am back in my own body, I will hurt you on principle." Optimus threatened. "But first, take the command codes to open my chassis and reset the power feeds to the holo emitter."

"Tempting," Magnus pretended to rub his chin plates. "I could take the matrix, declare myself Prime and leave you here. No worrying about getting hurt on principle. And rebuild our race with these lovely femmes. Or not." He hastily added as all their weapons abruptly targeted his spark.

"I will reset his power feeds," Arcee stated, lowering her arm blaster and shoulder rockets, rolling over to the red and blue mech's feet to begin pulling herself up. Flareup rolled over to Prowl. Chromia was opening the final section of Ironhide's chest plates, having taken charge of her spark mate, letting others talk. Magnus quietly excused himself outside to communicate with the Aerialbots.

He walked back in as Optimus optics opened, flaring blue. His body twitched, dislodging Arcee then caught and held her with both hands around her waist plates.

::Nice grip Prime:: Arcee

::Hmm, Elita-1 use to say the same:: Optimus smiled, then sat her gently on the floor. She immediately rolled over to Hound's protoform, beginning his repairs. Shortly, the restored Autobots were driving the two real humans back to base. Ratchet contacted the twins first, preventing them from being offlined permanently before he could verify it was not their doing. Two memory scans later, he knew they had not done the prank. Neither had the others, NEST or mechs. It was Prowl who discovered the Decepticon intrusion and the half dozen data pads missing.

_to be continued..._


	26. Chapter 26 Transforms and terrible tries

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and suggestions. And for voting in the poll on my profile page. Helps when I know what the fans like. Now as per requests, it's the Decepticons' turn at the rules. Let's see how they handle earth life. *Hears Ironhide snickering*

Okay, here I go again creating for lack of better info. I created the name Slitherton and arrival situation. Please read and try to figure out _who_ before it's revealed. I do NOT speak Arabic or anything about that culture. Took the title and translation off of Amazon book seller's site. Amazing what you can find in a net search. And Nightmark is an OC – Original character. Hey, when you need to off a bot why affect the main ones? They have fan clubs. Onward to mayhem and mistakes Decepticon Style.

_DCPTS DCPTS DCPTS DCPTS DCPTS DCPTS DCPTS_

The spider like drone tapped the pile of datapads in quiet triumph. "Stolen from Autobot Prowl's office without detection."

"Finally, we have insight into their plans and procedures." Thundercracker gloated as the idea to steal them using a drone had been his. Never admitting how nervous he had been as the day wore on and nothing happened. The drone's return at sunset had him practically screaming for the others.

"You read Autobot?" Nightmark asked, his blue and silver wings barely discernible in the fading light.

"It's Cybertronian you sorry excuse of…"

"Report!" Starscream commanded, entering the cave as if he commanded them and not Megatron. "Ah, the data pads. Have they been decoded yet? Do we know their plans or weaknesses? Well?" His red optics burned bright.

"Just got them. Knock yourself out Screamer." Thundercracker pointed, walking away. "Or let Nightmark read them. He might care. I don't. Have a patrol to fly per Megatron." He transformed, soaring out of the cave with his signature sonic boom. Both bots flinched, hastily engaging audio protectors. Starscream's hands formed into fists then relaxed, pointing at Nightmark then the datapads. He left without a word.

Two breems later Nightmark vented in exasperation. "Reports, reports, and more reports. Do the Autobots do anything but transcribe reports. Who cares how much time fleshlings spend in meetings, what they discuss or who builds what? This one has a password, easy enough to crack." His wrist cables slid out, tapping into the datapad, running a code breaker routine. "Rules? If an Autobot do not do the following. Hmm, sounds interesting. Let's see what they can't do. Might be a weakness to exploit."

_90. Do not pick alt forms that are terrifying, cruel or deadly by nature. Leave that to the Decepticons. _

Warrior Slitherton of Trypticon, specialist in Megatron's espionage forces, landed on planet earth and was not impressed. Hauling himself out of the Dead Sea, he flicked out a foot, dislodging a fish. The wind carried various night sounds, faint laughter here, a far revving car engine there and no threats to the Decepticon.

**Mission: Reconnaissance and infiltration. **

**Requirement: Alt form to blend in while creating fear and distraction in native population. **

Slitherton accessed the local signals, tapping into them without difficulty. 'How primitive are these things?' he thought, scanning their TV shows. Arabic news channel gave him an idea. "Plagues of locusts can devastate food crops on a magnitude inconceivable. They invade everywhere, are feared by everyone and are nigh unstoppable." He tapped the internet, researched the exact design specifics and initiated the transform protocols.

Two days later he landed with a loud click of green shiny wings, cricket mandibles high as the small village occupants began screaming. 'Village? More like a pit rim way station. The bridge to Iacon had more Autobot sentry posts than this. Time to test my form.' Stepping forward, he leaned back, clicking his front pinchers, making the trademark siren song. The women and children ran, while the men pulled their rifles, shooting and ricocheting off his plated armor. They stopped, regrouping around an old man wearing leadership robes. They huddled, talking too fast for his audio receptors to compare the language to the internet for translation. The men scattered before returning in two groups. One group surrounded him with spears and ropes, the others carried torches and a large metal pot. The old man accepted a book from a little boy, flipping through its pages.

'What is he going to do? Read me to death?' Slitherton snickered, fanning his wings while trying to decide what to attack first. The old man began yelling instructions, the men fanning out around his alt form. 'What is that book? _'Al-Tahi Wal Halawiyat Al-Sharqiyah Wal Gharbiyah Go Al-Matbakh Al-Falastini' _Translates to_ Arabic Cook Book Title: Eastern and Western sweets and meals.'_

' What the pit?! What recipe is he looking up?' Scanners focused in on the pages, translating as the men moved closer, some of them licking their lips. 'Roasted Chocolate Covered Locust Dessert. Dessert? Who? Me? No fallen way!' He jumped straight up, opening wings wide as the men threw their spears and ropes, attempting to bring him down.

Three breems and leagues of distance later, he landed behind a sand dune, swearing as the spears interfered with his wing folding. 'Stupid natives.' He shook then rolled, pulling out spears. 'Suppose to fear me not eat me!' Spinning his energon blaster, he hopped around, dislodging the last spear. 'I need a new alt form.' Linking with the internet, he consulted on local animal life.

'Camel, one hump or two? They kick, spit and bite. Hmm, not a manageable form. Gecko lizard? Poisonous skin but no teeth. Spider? Creepy but known to be squished easily. Not fierce enough. Desert gopher? Sounds promising being underground. Claws good but too small. Primitive back aft world. Nothing suitable for me? Aha!' His green shiny wings fluttered in delight as the new alt form was chosen. Green armor shifted to black as he reshaped.

::Slitherton you worthless agent. Report! Where are you?:: Blackout demanded, waiting at the desert oasis. He stumbled as the sand underneath his feet heaved. It exploded upward as a massive digging, roaring shape appeared out of the sand.

::Its Scorponok now:: He said, clicking his front claws. His scorpion tail snapped side to side before diving into the sand near Blackout's head. "Show some respect."

_96. Do not steal items in the possession of fleshlings associated with Autobots. They are destructive items that will cause damage and possible offlining despite their earthy appearance. _

Starscream watched Ironhide and the disgusting fleshling family through narrowed optics. Only two things kept him from transforming into his jet form and blasting them all. Megatron had ordered complete stealth and threatened dire vengeance if disobeyed. In addition, the chance Ironhide might get a lucky shot in. Starscream fought and won by sneaky, under handed backstabbing. 'A mech to mech fight with that planet exploding cannon psycho is too close to risk. I would win but sustain injuries.' He told himself, ignoring the processor computations that calculated a win by the narrowest of margins, if everything went right for Starscream and wrong for the Autobot.

"Wait daddy!" The small youngling cried. "We forgot my piggy bank. It has the treasure we need." She pointed to the pink round shape on the front steps of the family farmhouse.

"Treasure?" Starscream echoed not seeing anything significant about the object. The male he hated, the leader of the human forces who dared to attack his kind, the rightful keepers of Cybertron, the Decepticons, picked up the object and stowed it carefully inside the Autobot's alt mode with his daughter.

"Keep it safe from the Decepticons would you Ironhide? Mustn't let them get what is inside," he said, patting the hood of the black GMC Topkick.

Red optics flared, locking in on the object. "It will be mine." He fired a rocket up and over the house, hitting the distant corn field shed. Chaos ensued. The man grabbed his sparkling out, her little hands clutching the piggy bank as Ironhide transformed, bringing those dreaded cannons online. He jogged for the explosion, missing the cloaking field disengaging behind him. The human almost reached the steps of the house when Starscream landed in bi pedal mode, his mass creating an impact tremor.

Will Lennox fell, wrapping his body around Annabelle, trying to protect her. Metal claws reached, grasping the dropped piggy bank. "You live, for now fleshlings," Starscream threatened, ducking a cannon blast as Ironhide ran back. He transformed, spinning in the air then blasted off at supersonic speed. The piggybank rested in his inner hold, nestled in his folded hand.

His only mistake was not reengaging the cloaking field. Less than a click later, the Aerialbots found him. Ducking, dodging, he won free of them but not before sustaining damage. Whether by Primus, fate or karma, a puncture blast had hit his concealed hand, exploding the piggy bank. The pennies had fallen, resting on the bottom of the square area, jostling around but undetectable.

Slowing, Starscream began transforming to his bi pedal mode. 'What is that sound?' was his only thought as little metal rounds began sliding through a gap created by a transform movement. "Arrggh!" He folded over his mid section as they fell, jamming gears, sliding between connections and rattled down. Gears continued, breaking or reshaping the pennies into oblong or folded shapes. Made of copper, they were also great conductors. One fell in between a primary charger, completing the circuit charge and triggering his rear thrusters. Screaming, he bounced up and down with the thrusts, trying to engage the emergency overrides. Grabbing a tree, he uprooted it with a thrust then the overrides kicked in. Both fell over with a loud thump. "That fragging weapons specialist planned this. I will have my revenge." He sneered then began opening ports, trying to dislodge the coins. A week later the faintest rattle could still be heard when he walked as they continued to settle inside his protoform.

_97. Do not read or rely on human self-help books to handle situations between mechs, especially with command situations. _

Nightmark ground his jaws in frustration. The Decepticon seeker Jet paced the cave entrance as he grumbled. "Megatron leads. Megatron commands. Megatron makes a mess. We lose the fallen, the sun reaper and now he plans revenge? How many times does he have to have his aft handed to him by a Prime before he gets it? Remove the Prime then his weapons specialist by treachery, turning them on each other.'

::Skywarp to Nightmark. Any sign of pursuit?:: Skywarp

::Do you hear me shooting? Then no, all quiet:: Nightmark

::Nightmark, trade with Thundercracker. I need my wing rivets repaired. Your touch is delicate enough for the task. Now!::Starscream

Four joors later, Nightmark's jaw hinge was signaling imminent failure due to repeated grinding stress. He began searching the internet for an answer. Numerous self help and advice sites popped up on stress, handling job situations and dealing with bad bosses. Fascinated, he began downloading and processing.

::Nightmark to Megatron and Starscream, may I confer with you?:: Nightmark sent then received an affirmative back. They all met, the other two mechs expecting a report. Neither responded when he began laying out how he felt being used and abused by them. Megatron remained still, listening as Starscream began backing up out of range.

"I want to negotiate. I have rights and this war will last for awhile. I have ideas you need to know." Nightmark finished.

"Negotiate?" Megatron folded his hands together as if thinking, turning then snapped around, forming his rifle. Bawham! Nightmark's chest and spark disappeared in the blast, hurling his body against the wall.

"Negotiations over. You lose. Starscream, dispose of those worthless data pads."

"Yes master." He bowed, not meeting optics.

::Starscream to drone. Get rid of those pads. Now! Report to me when the task is completed:: Starscream. The drone reviewed his programming, finding no specifics on how to dispose of them. Data correlated into him returning them. He began the trek back to the NEST base.

_To be continued…_


	27. Chapter 27 Getting little things wrong

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Okay, playing the family card here. Optimus is spark mated to Elita-1 and no other femme. Working on her arrival in coming chapter's side plots. Blurr is a second generation Transformer who is blue and super fast. Why he's fast and who his famous femme is also chaptering soon. Ancient Cyberzarto style is a term I created for an Autobot fighting style. And the Twins _Jet Judo_ does not apply to a kicking six year old on the ground.

Rule 98 is because I have had so many requests on gas and Transformers so here it is Prowl rules style. Hopefully you like it. And Ironhide seems to be everywhere this fic. I added his original Cybertron name and the story behind it. (this name is made up!) I don't know and can't find the real version anywhere.

Thanks and full credit goes to Karategal and her fic _Sparkling _for the Rufus toy. A great fic for a baby Bumblebee and the Autobots before they reached earth. I have her permission via e-mail to mention Rufus. Onward to appearances and getting the facts wrong.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

The Decepticon drone lowered on its back cable, replacing the data pads onto Prowl's desk. Sneaking into Diego Garcia had been easier than getting out when stealing the pads. It dropped to the floor, scuttling on its spindle legs to the door, scanning for Autobots signals. Two signals refracted back but stationary, next building over. It scuttled down the hallway, below the sensor alarms and out a vent to the outside. In the shadows, its black bulbous body blended and disappeared from normal view.

Rounding a building corner, it stopped, face to face with a fleshling. A very short, blond haired femme fleshling. Two front pads bent up, intending to grab and secure the fleshling. It screamed, stepping sideways, hitting the nearest appendage on both joints, the force bending the second opposite its normal direction. Pain sensors flaring, the drone tried scuttling back as the fleshling screamed again, kicking its main orb body. The force jarred it but caused minimal damage. A flick of its side appendage and the fleshling went down on its side, quiet. Bright light flared as Ratchet rounded the corner, skidding to a stop.

"Don't" the drone warned, standing next to Annabelle, with one black claw next to her throat. Ratchet smirked, raising both hands and stepping back. "As you wish." A brush of the wind and she was gone. The drone still faced Ratchet.

"Smart. Arrgghh!" Prime's energon sword went into and through the drone, melting a slag pile as he twisted the blade.

"Wow, you're fast," Annabelle said, rubbing her face as it began to hurt. Blurr smiled down at her. "Heard you scream came running protect. Ironhide blast everything anything happen. You be more careful. I have cleanup detail and little blasted stuff hard to find. Here you go Ratchet." He slowly handed her over to the medic, rigidly controlling his hands. The second she was transferred he zipped off.

"Scrape from the pavement. Black eye forming from the appendage hit. No bones broken," Ratchet noted, removing a boo boo bot bunny form his side chest cooler panel. "You are very brave not to cry. Don't touch your face." She placed the bunny shape against her cheek, sighing as its cool and soft body eased the pain.

::You can stop now Prime. Even the pavement is slagged:: Ratchet

::Making sure:: Optimus answered, twisting the gold blade one last time before sheathing it back in his arm.

::You should have saved some for Ironhide. He's liable to blow a gasket when he finds out:: Ratchet sent, sitting Annabelle down on the pavement but continued monitoring her for any delayed reactions. ::It was pure chance we were so close and saw what happened::

:: That youngling hit and kicked ancient Cyberzarto style. You know who taught her that. Tell Ironhide, focusing on her strength, do not show him what happened:: Optimus

::Informing troops is your job. I repair what's left:: Ratchet

"What were you doing out here alone?" Optimus asked, kneeling down by her.

"Getting Rufus."

"Rufus?" Optimus echoed, the distinct feeling he should know who or what Rufus was from long ago.

"Bumblebee loaned him to me. I like to sleep with it when daddy and Ironhide are away." She said, noticing how bright blue optics flared in front of her.

"Rufus?" His thoughts slid to a halt, remembering. Bumblebee, his first toy having a soft body like a teddy mech and its face like Optimus' with its battle mask engaged. 'He carried it everywhere and never went into recharge without it. Can't be the same one. It would be over ten thousand years old. He must have made one for her.'

"Let's get him together ." He opened his silver armored hand, lowering it to the pavement in front of her. She climbed on, grabbing one metal finger tightly. The toy was a duplicate, missing the repair stitching on its back. He carried it and her towards the main hanger, going out and around the melted hole.

::Bumblebee, whatever happened to your Rufus toy?:: Optimus sent. On base visiting with Sam, his answer came back immediately.

::I still have it. Wheeljack sealed it with epoxy many vorns ago to protect it. Not soft or squishy but squeezable. Why, need to borrow it?:: The young scout quipped, his merriment clear over the comm line.

::No, but I was thinking of having a little mech or femme sparkling eventually. Elita and I will be together again. Would be a good welcome toy would it not?:: He chided, hearing only silence. 'The speechless bot truly speechless. One for the big bot.'

_98. Do not deceive humans about our refueling and recharging needs._ *Ultra Magnus, Optimus Prime and Ironhide.

The three mechs stared optic to eye with the government research team and tried to remain neutral in their expressions. 'The communications walkway allows easier access but does nothing for smarter conversations,' Optimus thought. The main human researcher continued talking, oblivious to how boring he sounded as he continued into the second hour.

::I take it back. I would rather listen to the Mudflap and Skids than this human scientist:: Ultra Magnus

::Crunch it up commander. This is my normal dealing with humans:: Optimus sent, tilting his head towards his brother.

::PRIME – Patience and Resolve In Monotonous Everyday:: Ironhide teased.

The scientist paused as the two largest aliens robots snapped their battle masks in place, blinking their optics. "Something wrong? Do you need to go somewhere?" Unable to remember which red, white and blue mech was the Prime and which was the Field Commander, he looked back and forth at them.

"NASA relay. Possible comet sighting. As command, we need to verify. If you will excuse us?" Optimus asked very politely, barely able to contain his laughter.

::Liar! Liar, parts panels on fire:: Ironhide

::You spend too much time with that youngling 'Hide:: Ultra Magnus groaned, making sure he was first out of the hangar.

::I said possible. Not possible once we get there. Need to confirm how not possible:: Optimus waved to the research team, wondering how to survive the next four days with them. Sam, Mikeala, Will and Annabelle were waiting for them outside.

"Yes!" Mikeala cheered, punching Sam in the arm. "I win! Quit whining Sam. It wasn't that hard a hit."

"We were betting on when you would escape them. I had two hours ten minutes. Annabelle guessed two hours twenty minutes." Lennox said.

"And Ironhide would go boom! Blow up and chase them off." She giggled, running and hoping into his lowered hand. The black armored mech looked pained.

"I don't solve everything with my cannons." He said.

"Name one thing, this month, you solved without force?" Sam challenged as everyone waited.

"I chased off that twerp of a congressional aide. Never threatened, raised my vocal tones or treated him without respect," Ironhide stated calmly, winking one optic at Annabelle.

"How did you?" Ultra Magnus asked, shock plain on his face plates. He crossed his arms, the blue and red colors vivid against his white chassis then changed when he noticed Optimus stood that way already. Appearances were forgotten as the weapons specialist explained.

"Why are we stopping here?" The aide asked, looking up from his clipboard as he sat inside of Ironhide's alt form. Not one question on the how, why or when of sharing Transformer weapons had been answered. All he had to show for the morning was vague answers and techno babble way above his schooling level.

"Gas station. I'm advanced but my alt form requires gas. Same as a matching earth vehicle. You have a credit card correct?" The voice coming from the dash was monotone and unhelpful as it had been since they had been teamed together.

"All government officials have credit cards for their needs. " The young man replied, pulling out his wallet. He nearly choked at the final bill for forty gallons of premium fuel but paid without a word. They returned to the Lennox farm for lunch. Ironhide quietly excused himself, sneaking off to the barn. Slipping out a hose attachment from his side panel, he drained the gas from his spare weapons hold. "Sarah can use this in her vehicle. Her taxes paid for it."

"I made the twerp fill me up at least three more times. Figured a GMC Top kick gets about 8 miles per gallon. Told him I needed to stay moving to think properly, at least above sixty miles an hour, and keep our meeting a secret."

"He bought it? I mean, he bought that you needed gas and not energon?" Sam sputtered as Mikeala and Will laughed.

"Anyone too dumb to verify our needs before showing up should never handle anything over a pea shooter let alone be responsible for tax payer money. After the last fill up, I did regretfully remind him the treaty prevented sharing our weapons and armor technology." The weapons specialist mumbled, not the least apologetic.

"Insult to injury?" Lennox joked, wondering how to explain the gas to his wife.

"No, that was when I turned in the mileage forms." Ironhide smirked, pointing at Annabelle. "Got your birthday list written yet?"

_102. Do not assess capabilities of strange objects by poking, prodding or touching. Earth may be primitive but its dangers are not. _*Bumblebee, Sam, Mudflap, Skids, Wheeljack and Flareup_. _

Sideswipe looked through the bars at his yellow twin and vented softly. 'Even in recharge he has no peace. It was not his fault this time. He should be in our recharge berth, not the brig.'

::Release Sunstreaker and both report to the airfield immediately. Distress call from Bumblebee. Sam and Mikeala are in danger. Rendezvous with Silverbolt. Contact with Bumblebee lost. I will meet you there:: Prowl

Sunstreaker jerked to his feet, snapping out of recharge as his red twin's excitement poured through their bond.

"Time to go." He held the brig door open, relaying the coding sequence to unlock their weapons.

"Sam, please hang on. Help is coming," Mikeala begged, holding his head still, her dark hair falling forward over them both. His quiet form lay on the sand, unmoving. "Bumblebee sent for help. Stay with us. " She glanced over at the yellow mech, his form face down in the beach, as his optics closed. Fighting back her emotions, she checked the time again, unable to call human authorities. "Only place on the planet between cell towers and I don't dare leave you two. When you get out of the hospital, I am going to kill you both for this. And switch 'Bee's program to a Volkswagen bug. A neon yellow bug with big pink flowers." Tears filled her eyes and she shook her head, brushing them away with one arm.

It had been a beautiful picnic lunch, followed by a stroll down the beach. She had stopped to watch a hermit crab scuttling for the water when Sam yelled from up ahead.

"Look what we found. It's a metal do hickey." He poked a vaguely round shape in the sand with a piece of driftwood. Bumblebee leaned in close, running his hand over it.

"Whatever Sam. You find metal debris in all this," she waved her arm, gesturing at the ocean, sand dunes, marine life and the clear blue sky. "And I'm supposed to care?" She pursed her lips, exasperated at him and his robot guardian. A sharp whistle from Bumblebee snapped her attention to them as he grabbed Sam, sprinting a step away as the flash filled her sight. Tingling, she gasped, spitting out sand as she raised herself up. Sam went sprawling, not moving as Bumblebee tilted forwards, falling without trying to catch himself. "Message to Starfleet," clip played as his head turned to the side, relaxing.

"No, no, NO!" Mikeala yelled, staggering to Sam. "Sam, do you hear me?"

Jet engines roared overhead as Silverbolt dived, his back ramp down. Twin mech shapes, one yellow and one red bailed out, landing in precision, sword blades ready. Back to back, they scanned the area before jogging to her side. Sideswipe knelt, holding his metal hand inches above Sam. Sunstreaker flipped Bumblebee over, accessing his remote medical relays. Grinning, he gave a thumbs up to Sideswipe. He sat back, sheathing his sword.

"Relax Mikeala. He's stunned but functional. Both of them. Ratchet is coming with Prime." He tapped her shoulder with two fingers, careful of her fragile physical nature. A few second later, Bumblebee's body jerked, coming back online. Whistling, he struggled to reach Sam as Sunstreaker held him.

"Not so fast. Systems still rebooting. He's fine. And you can explain to Prime what happened."

"He can explain now," the deep vocal tones of their leader was heard as he stepped into view over the sand dune. Ratchet ducked under his outstretched arm, kneeling by Mikeala and Sam. He exchanged high pitched whistles and clicks with everyone there, except Bumblebee. He ducked his head, shifting to a sitting position. Optimus began tapping his foot, optics glaring. "A scout on dozens of worlds, surviving in hostile conditions, against Decepticons ten times your size, and you didn't recognize a stun grenade? The same one missing from last month's battle practice?"

Bumblebee made a low whimpering sound, poking the sand with his hand.

"Stun grenade hit his systems with coding designed to simulate significant battle damage," Sideswipe explained, the laughter underneath his tone evident.

"Sam caught the side effect being held in his hand," Ratchet explained, blowing air from his hand onto the boy's face. "Ah, he is awake."

"Mikeala?" He blinked, focusing on her then recoiled against a green metal leg as she raised a fist.

"You dork! Scaring me half to death! I ought to drown you or bury you in sand or whatever Sam Witwicky! Honestly!" She fumed.

"Maybe we should give one of them Ironhide's old name after this," Sunstreaker snickered, pretending to hide his smile behind his yellow armored hand.

"Not even close." Ratchet murmured, helping Sam to his feet.

"What was Ironhide's original Cybertronian name? " Mikeala asked, avoiding looking at either Sam or Bumblebee .

"It was before my time but I do know it." Optimus said quietly. "Little blast."

"What?!" The humans gasped.

"When he was a youngling, just getting a mech's third frame, he visited the weapons specialist workshop with a group of other young mechs," Ratchet began. "And it was before all our times. Probably only Jetfire was sparked then. And he was here on earth. "

"He got his first cannons?" Sam guessed, keeping a good distance from Mikeala. He knew she would remember this for awhile.

"No, strictly a tour." Sideswipe started.

"But he recorded what he saw and went home to begin experimenting with his own," Sunstreaker added.

" Decepticons didn't exist at that time as you know them now. Megatron and Optimus were not even sparked then. A group of glitches gathered together, wanting to restrain the femmes." Ratchet continued. "The femmes were breeding, not using the Allspark to continue our race. The others felt the Allspark was the only way."

" They disappeared from main avenues then popped here or there creating damage and leaving. Then they took over the courtyard in the temple proper, holding several femmes hostage. Ironhide's femme was among them." Optimus paused, imaging the scene. "Ironhide snuck in behind the royal guard forces and watched the standoff. His small size allowed him to hang on the underside of a mech roller sent in with medical supplies. Hid one of his little experiment toys in the far courtyard. At that time it was three levels of gardens. Metal sculptures not plants like earth has." He paused again, shaking his head. "I never saw them except for history holo replays."

"What happened?" Sam asked, intently listening.

"It exploded, triggering a chain reaction back through the system of pipes that existed underneath the surface. Blew out the gardens and several grids of nearby courtyard all the way to the city edge. The guard rushed in thinking they were blowing the temple building, the glitches surrendered thinking they were about to be offlined, then everyone began looking for the cause of the explosion. Ironhide was found, in stasis shock from the concussion backlash. He said it was only suppose to be a 'little blast.' Nova Prime laughed at that, a very rare occurrence, repeating it. The nickname stuck and became his true name for a long time." Optimus finished as they all chuckled.

"We joked about changing it to big blast after he blew up a planet vorns ago." Sunstreaker said.

"A planet?" Mikeala repeated, making a circle motion as the mechs nodded.

"Yup. But Ironhide works well too," Sideswipe said.

"Do not let him know we told you." Ratchet admonished them. "And the next time you poke at an unknown object invisible to your scans youngling," he faced Bumblebee. "You'll be little pieces."

"Not when I'm done welding his aft to something." Mikeala threatened, glaring at him and Sam.

::That femme is fierce. Glad she's not my sparkmate:: Sunstreaker

::I'm not sure Sam is glad she is his:: Sideswipe

::Enough you two:: Optimus sent then gestured for everyone to head over the dunes towards the road.

Sam and Bumblebee got beach trash duty everyday for the rest of the week, with strong warnings not to touch anything they did not recognize beyond a shadow of a doubt. Mikeala spent her sunrises sleeping in followed by a leisure breakfast and learning basic medical repairs from Ratchet.


	28. Chapter 28 Rules 57 102

Author's Notes: Yes, there have been a lot of rules and more rules to come. When I created the first chapter I asked if readers wanted more or should it remain a one piece fic and now I am in awe of 26 chapters and am working on the next five now. Could not have done it without all of you and the gifts God gave me and inspiration.

Rules 1 – 56 are in Chapter 13. Enjoy.

TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR

57. Do not change official equipment in regards to telling time, location or other required information.

58. Do not yell at a human, especially in front of higher command officers. They yell back.

59. Do not assist humans with homework, or teach them advanced materials beyond their current need unless the situation or circumstances require it. Civilian or military included.

60. When a human asks, 'what's the battle plan' do not answer:

a. Why? You know something I don't?

b. Do you have clearance from Cybertron command? Takes 2 vorns or 164 years to complete the forms and get approval. You better start now.

c. Turn your optics red, unsubspace both swords, slam them into the ground on either side of the person asking and growl.

d. Smile and say 'go ask my twin. He has a better answer.' Then video record what happens when he's asked.

e. Don't get offlined. The rest is minor details.

f. Cut back on soda pop and other sugary drinks, no fried foods and work out more. Oh, I thought you were talking about dealing with your weight chubby.

g. Shoot, shoot, and shoot some more making sure not to miss.

h. Why ask me? I'm a medic not a strategist. I'm the one stuck repairing all the messes.

i. Our response will be on a sliding scale. The more Decepticons that attack, the more we send them sliding into the pit.

j. I'm just a soldier. Ask my brother, he's the Prime.

k. Run away? No, wait. That's what you do when the plan fails.

l. Use plans A - R. Why stop there? If you go through 18 plans and haven't won, then S stands for screwed!

m. Send a memo to the Decepticons, await their scheduling response, agree to both meet, discuss which committee has the weapons….I am being serious. That's how you humans plan it!

61. Do not participate, purchase or assist in human fund raising, charity drives, or similar. A designated fund exists. Submit appropriate requests to a command officer.

62. No answering telephones and pretending to be Ratchet's Prime's, or my (Prowl) assistant and scheduling any type of appointment, meeting or public event.

63. Do not sneak into drive-in movies.

64. Do not appear to panic, become unduly upset or show unpredictable violent behavior around the humans. We are intelligent, self-controlled living beings, with thousands of years of experience and wisdom.

65. Do not mention, explain or release any information on the Matrix other than it is an ancient device that is carried by a Prime. Refer all inquiries to myself (Prowl) or Optimus Prime. Do not refer them to Ratchet or Ironhide. This is strictly a command issue.

66. Do not post embarrassing, unusual or surprised moment pictures of fellow Autobots on the internal relays or NEST intranet.

67. Do not turn fellow Autobots into human toys.

68. Do not assume any item is harmless or "idiot proof" in the possession of a fellow Autobot.

69. Do not plot, plan or sneak a tactical solution with humans without consulting or at least informing command officers, especially those involved in said planwhether they know it or not .

70. Do not joke, insinuate or contemplate interspecies marriages between humans and Autobots unless truly serious.

71_. _Do not inquire, challenge or openly criticize the role of human females in the military. It is an earth rule and Autobot command will ensure their transfer to our teams as requested.

72. Do not assist with the removal, extermination or prevention of pests on base. Including but not limited to rats, mice, snakes, insects or perceived pests like small dogs and government liaisons.

73. Do not use holographic driver programs to portray any trademarked food, beverage or similar product, even if attempting to remain anonymous.

74. When caught speeding, do not switch your holographic driver to a diminutive, aged female human.

75. Do not use holograms to portray famous humans who have offlined from previous historical time periods, are stuck in any transposed state or offlined in any visibly deceased manner.

76. Do not change holographic drivers to non-human forms for any purpose or situation previously not approved, especially to provoke reactions from human drivers.

77. Do not believe what humans tell you in regards to medical conditions or cross species contaminations. Consult an Autobot medic.

78. Do not express personal opinions, beliefs or attitudes regarding Decepticons around humans.

a.) Especially Annabelle Lennox until she reaches an appropriate age of maturity per her parental units. *Ironhide and any other mech or femme.

b.) Exempted are NEST authorized personnel, Sam Witwicky (not his parents) and Mikeala Banes (not her father or aunt)

79. Do not play the song hokey pokey on base except as requested by humans at dances. Never repeat play endlessly on prisoners in the brig. That constitutes cruel and unusual punishment.

80. Do not send human clothing via the mail, as a present to those humans encountered and not known to NEST forces.

81. Do not adapt human reality shows to our existence.

82. No retaliation on Earth cars for damage or insult caused by their drivers.

83. When a human runs up and says, "We have an emergency and need you" (even if you know it is a drill or non-emergency) Do NOT answer:

a. How is that my problem fleshling?

b. Scream, run in circles, and transform back and forth as though panicking.

c. Charge your weapons and point them at said human until they leave or faint.

d. Come back in fifteen minutes, I'm on break.

e. Tell the mechs, emergencies are their problems. I'm a femme.

f. I got symbols all over me but 911 ain't one of them.

g. If you need me, it's not an emergency but a disaster!

h. Call your President and Congress, they probably created this situation.

i. Yah, yah, I got that memo. Forwarded it to someone who cares.

j. Now who died and where do we stuff the body this time?

k. Any other response not deemed appropriate by Cybertron command.

84. Do not attempt to adjust, enhance or improve the functioning of human equipment in their showers, restrooms or private living quarters.

85. Do not attempt to awaken a human, especially one that is tired from previous battles, by:

a. Leaning in very close to their face and tapping them. Remember our size differences. *Optimus Prime, Ultra Magnus and Ratchet.

b. Grabbing them by their ankle extensions and swing them up into the air like a sparkling.

c. Using a light magnetic pulse to get their attention.

d. Do not charge weapons and blast the bed out from under them.

e. Jumping up and down on the floor, pavement or ground. Especially those from California, Oregon and Washington. (Earthquake country)

f. Play any song at full volume.

g. Yell "Hey fleshling, recharge time is over!" *Ironhide

h. Scream, "The Decepticons are attacking, the Decepticons are attacking."

i. Place a sleeping human femme on or nearby them. Neither will appreciate it, certainly any unbonded pair. *Sideswipe, Sunstreaker

j. A few drops of water will work, not an Autobot size handful. Please refer to emergency drowning procedures for fleshlings module.

k. Do not stroke, prod or tickle them. Reactions to said touching will be varied and may create a response you are unable to deal with.

l. Never cover their face or breathing apertures. You will offline them and Autobot Command will offline you pending trial until the end of the war for murder. Review physical limitations of human's structures, a medical requirements module.

m. Cold only if varying a few degrees and not using freezing rays. Too varied a temperature and they will develop hypothermia or offline. Again, consult medical requirements.

n. Place five alarms clocks around said sleeper, each 15 seconds apart in alarm time and trigger the first.

o. Do not use frozen marbles, shaving cream, syrup, paint, live animals, or insects for assistance.

p. If all else fails or you are concerned about injuries, let them sleep. Their command officer will deal with it.

q. If Sam Witwicky - Report to Bumblebee or his parental units. Repeated attempts will be required and they know the methods that have worked in the past without injury.

r. If Mikeala Banes - Do not disturb. Let Sam Witwicky or Optimus Prime make the attempt. They are more likely to be allowed to continue to function once said femme is awake.

86. Do not use special abilities, advanced design specifics around humans without warning them about potential consequences when attempting to duplicate.

87. Do not encourage humans in their attractions to or for our race.

88. Do not practice stealth tactics on humans in the dark, especially after a horror movie fest night.

89. No masquerading as human children's entertainment rides, even if preventing graffiti or damage.

90. Do not pick alt forms that are terrifying, cruel or deadly by nature. Leave that to the Decepticons.

91. Do not change holographic drivers to roadside convenience equipment including but not limited to mailboxes, telephones, or trash cans.

92. Do not abuse the use of drive thru windows. They are made for human convenience at coffee stands, fast food, banks, dry cleaners, and wedding chapels. Using holographic drivers to pull pranks and posting the result on the internet is absolutely forbidden. Please refer to previous rules regarding use of holographic drivers.

93. Do not remake human board games into Cybertronian versions.

94. Do not tamper with base blue prints, alter GPS codes or land maps and provide to new personnel to "help" them find their way around.

95. When yelled at, "why didn't you kill that Decepticon?" do Not answer:

a. What do you think I was trying to doing by shooting at it?

b. Yes, those plasma grenades, cannon blasts and energon sword were so playing patty cake with him weren't they?

c. He sends the most beautiful Christmas cards every year and I would so miss getting one.

d. This week's budget only allowed my five battle kill rockets and that was my sixth battle.

e. If you could do better, you attack him!

f. I wanted, 'plays nice with others', on my report card.

g. He has the same armor, weapons and battle experience but we're stuck with you on our side!

h. If I kill him then I have to eat him and I'm not hungry. Had a liaison's car for breakfast.

i. It's Tuesday. Wounding badly but not offlining. Thursday is blowing sparks to fragments and Friday is slice and dice with a sword...

j. I am a scout not a mass murderer.

k. I am awaiting paperwork approval from the EPA - Environmental Protection Agency to spill energon, a known hazardous substance onto the ground and surrounding vegetation.

96. Do not steal items in the possession of fleshlings associated with Autobots. They are destructive items that will cause damage and possible offlining despite their earthy appearance.

97. Do not read or rely on human self-help books to handle situations between mechs, especially with command situations.

98. Do not deceive humans about our refueling and recharging needs.

99. Do not fail to upload and update rules, laws, regulations and ordinances from city, county, state, federal, municipal, townships, burroughs and regions as relating to driving on freeways, highways, interstates, toll roads, bridges, streets, county roads and unpaved roads. *Any Autobot with wheels and not wings

100. Do not forget to maintain the exterior alt vehicle form, license plates, renewal tabs or specialty permits as required by human laws.

101. Do not change holographic drivers into animals, real or mythical.

102. Do not assess capabilities of strange objects by poking, prodding or touching. Earth may be primitive but its dangers are not.


	29. Chapter 29 Make belive and wrong ideas

Author's Notes: Mix and matched chapter pieces, rearranging things from what I had intended to post. The story on Blurr and Prime feeling Elita-1 earthbound moved to next chapters instead of this one. Twins and two other mechs took this one over. Once again, I do NOT do slash in any form. If you want that, please go to the M for Mature section for those fics or find those other authors who write it. There are thousands of TF stories on this site to choose from.

Thanks to the fic "Autobot Pranks" for the upside down desk gag. Referenced here for fun.

In Rule 102 Optimus is supposed to talk that weird way. I love his voice and he has the best lines so what if his translator became damaged? There is a battle caused medical reason he is talking oddly. Says the closest word by sound. "No" becomes "Noah's ark." Oh the fun and complication of the English language. Onward to saying what you mean.

**TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TRANSFORMERS**

Major Will Lennox, commander of NEST operations, and friend of the Transformers looked at the congressional aide to the latest budget committee and almost asked him if being an idiot was a requirement for assignment to Diego Garcia. Then decided it had to be, along with no manners and terrible taste in clothes. The man's dark green shirt clashed with the light brown pants and black shoes. His attaché case was pale red and the cell phone clipped on his belt was electric blue. "Least no one will mistake him for a NEST team member." Lennox muttered then raised his voice, continuing the discussion. "Their contributions have made a big difference in protecting our world."

"Not much difference from where I stand." The aide said.

"Stand with them once in battle and you will know." Major Lennox stated, turning and stopping directly in front of the man. "Autobots have a brig, holds Autobots who break the rules as well as Decepticons. They have a pit, somewhere they thrown their own injured rather than repair them. We count a victory by how many survived. Their victory is total annihilation, death and destruction. Review the footage from Mission City over five years ago. Optimus protected humans, and Jazz died doing so. Then watch the clip where Megatron flicks a claw, throwing a man against a car because he could. Not because he was threatened, or in danger but out of pure evil maliciousness."

"Not too much a threat if a teenage boy and a Rubik's cube took him out."

"Allspark cube," he corrected, resisting the temptation to yell, scream or strike at the man physically. He was a professional solider with training on how to kill and could not indulge emotional whims.

"And Megatron's back. The Transformers will protect what they care about?"the aide asked.

'That leaves you out.' The military officer thought while nodding an affirmative. 'If Optimus can deal with the idiots of our race with patience, so can I.'

_103. Do not ignore Medical restrictions through human assistance. They will not be harmed but Ratchet will deal with you, mech or femme by any means necessary at his disposal. _*Optimus Prime, Ultra Magnus, Bumblebee and Ironhide.

Optimus shifted on the medical berth, removing the medical sensor connections from his chassis.

"Are you sure that is wise?" Major Lennox asked, "Ratchet's orders were to stay put until he got back."

"You speak Cybertronian now Major?" Optimus rumbled as he closed his chest panels.

"Threats need no translation. And you ignore physical injuries. Mission City, Egypt and Russia. How long have we known each other?"

"At least four textbooks." Optimus answered then winced, flaring his optics. "My translator circuit is damaged. The other corrupted processors affect only battle responses. I cannot remain in Mediterranean bay and command my troops. Decepticons are attacking all over the globe awards. I will not fight. Is that satisfactory? "

Lennox opened his mouth then shut it without a comment. His sense of humor warred with the need to have an Autobot point of view on the recent attacks. 'Ultra Magnus is out of reach in space, getting needed raw materials. Ironhide and Jazz are with him. No other mech left has the command experience. We thought the Decepticons would remain in hiding. Wrong.' He glanced up, seeing the terrible pit marks and sealed welds on Optimus from his last battle with Megatron. A plain metal plate welded over his shoulder joint until the Autobot medic could return and rebuild it.

"Ratchet is not here and now. His rank supersedes minelayers only when incapacitated. We cannot let the Decepticons whine in these attacks."

"You're right," The major agreed. "They can't win. You said whine. However, that fits too. Do the damaged circuits affect your comm speech?"

"No."

"Stick to that unless necessary. And you deal with Ratchet when he returns. Until then, you are in an advisory mode only. No combat for any reason. I'll have Epps hack in the mainframe and upgrade your medical status. And then override the door locks to get you out of here. Agreed?"

Two hours later, Lennox was barely noticing the speech switches until the discussion turned to Prowl. He was leading the twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker in the Midwest, hunting the last of a three mech Decepticon terror team. One Decepticon was offlined, the other two wounded but still a threat.

"Does Prowl have a sparkmate?" The congressional aide asked. He had heard rumors and wanted to confirm the darkest, oddest ones.

"Prowl is a follower of logic. His interest in relationships is same as a vow of celebrity." Optimus answered the man.

"He swore to be famous? Be wild and go after younger or many?"The man asked in confusion.

"Celibacy. As in no love interest." Lennox corrected, irritated the man seemed slow. He knew Optimus was having a hard time dealing with the syntax errors. 'This idiot on his best day can't match a Prime yet is pushing it. What is his problem?' he thought.

"Maybe he's keeping it secret? Knowing you won't approve of his choice?" he continued.

"Noah's ark at all. Not logical to railroad tie up your time, thoughts and emotions with another. A sparkmate could happenstance, but he does not sleek one out. He is friends with femmes but does not purse them."

"I see, I think." The man muttered.

Their conversation was interrupted by a NASA relay of a prerecorded message. "Jazz to big bot. We got the materials but got mechs down. Asteroid vault collapsed, Ultra Magnus and Ironhide. Got them out but Ironhide lost one cannon and Magnus lost his internal communication with a power surge. Arrive 2 pm base time. Jazz out."

"Jazz is the mech who was killed at Mission city but now is functional?" The aide asked, receiving a yes back. "Is that wise? Dying changes our race. I've heard he's a prankster on officers over him. Doesn't that show a lack of respect for authority?"

"Jazz is a valued member of my tea party. He encourages and provides wise counsel." Optimus stated, ignoring the few snickers. "We are bound by war and friendship. He irritates Prowl but does so with good tents. I too have been pancaked by them in fun."

The aide twisted his lips, wondering how to find out more. 'I know I am going to regret asking this,' he thought then asked, "What happened?"

Lennox explained, having seen the clip of the prank. "The twins, the ones out on a mission, took his office desk and chair, bolting it upside down to the ceiling. Optimus flipped himself up and into the chair, wrapping his legs around its base to hang on. He hung there and called Prowl in like normal for a report. He reacted as planned." He chuckled, deliberately leaving out Prowl offlining with his logic glitch. That was classified information least some government agency use it to capture and hurt him.

2 pm found them at the airfield, Silverbolt bringing the returning mechs in from their hot entry comet landings. Ironhide walked out, one arm with mangled armor plating and missing its cannon. Ultra Magnus limped out; his head plate cracked and fractures across his shoulder and chest plate. Optimus winced, knowing the force it took to damage their military grade armor.

"Magnus, Ratchet is inbound. Arrive shortly." He said. The others waited, use to his mannerisms and speeches over the thousands of years they had served together. He glanced down at the human aide standing among the NEST soldiers, relaying only to Ironhide and Jazz.

::Injuries affected my translation program. The words are not coming out correctly. Can Magnus hear or receive anything?:: Optimus

::No. How come you're not in med bay then? That shoulder plate is a temp fix at best:: Ironhide

::Ratchet is going to hand you your aft on that plate when he finds out you skipped:: Jazz

Ultra Magnus looked back and forth, knowing they were talking internally but not hearing them. 'Why isn't my brother talking? He always talks, even in battle with Megatron. And now he's quiet?' He folded his fingers into the battle sign coded language , asking for brief details. 'Status report?' was flashed out without the humans seeing anything but him flexing his hands. The mechs stopped, looking over at their leader, waiting for him to handle the situation.

"Welcome back Magnus. We need your experiment on the situation to help keep the clam."

"Wheeljack needs help with seafood?" He asked the frowned as Optimus sighed, closing his optics and dropping his head as though in defeat.

Ratchet returned that night, having retrieved the ores and supplies sent ahead of the returning mechs. He ran out of wrenches listening to the reasons why Optimus and Magnus were on their feet in the command center and not locked in med bay. He pulled rank, ordering them out. They refused. "You leave me no choice," he grated between clinched lip plates.

"The twins are on a mission with Prowl." Ultra Magnus stated. "They might be able to take us down and you already stasis locked Ironhide. What did you have in mind?"

"I concur. We can fiction at acceptable levels. You lack the size and speed dial to disable us both."

"How about me?" Sarah Lennox asked, walking in via the human size door into the Autobot hangar. "Hi Ratchet. Kids giving you problems I see. Either you go with him or stay with me. You decide." She stated, folding her arms and giving them her best mommy look.

_104. Do not expand upon, use or rely on concepts or ideas taken from children's books. They are unrealistic concepts created by imagination for human children and not factual reality. _*Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Grimlock and the Dinobots, the Aerialbots, and Ironhide.

Sergeant Epps tried closing the door on the Autobots hangar with his foot. He used more force that intended with the kick, slamming it. "Wind caught it," he muttered as everyone turned to look at him. "Fall storm, blow the leaves off the trees and make a mess type wind."

"What's in the box?" Major Will Lennox inquired, looking down from the communications platform, seeing paperbacks and books shifting around inside. He had known Epps for years and reading was not an activity his friend liked. Even required reports were skimmed.

"Recreational materials. You know, educated stuff." Climbing the stairs while balancing the box weight on his other side, the one not needing to grab the railing if he slipped on the metal stairs.

"An improvement over most of the NEST activities I have seen." The congressional aide said, looking up from his laptop. "We do without wasteful, unusable extras in the budget office."

"Like personality?" Lennox quipped, laughing at the glare he got. He walked over, pulling out books. "These are kids' books."

"Book sale at the Elementary school in town. Got Annabelle new quiet time materials without breaking the bank."

"Good thinking. Got any of how to get rid of a tall, skinny problem who has worn out their welcome?" Lennox began pulling out books, setting some aside for review before letting his daughter handle them.

"Kids books don't cover explosives, alien abductions or hiding bodies. Getting nowhere with our alien friends is he?"

Lennox laughed, moving closer. "Ironhide demanded a gas tank fill. This aide knew better; Ironhide dumped him out of this cab, literally. Optimus and Magnus are in meetings all morning via satellite. Ratchet is repairing the major twins after their last prank on the femmes. Tell you about it when other ears are not around. Minor twins are in the brig, Bumblebee is returning with Sam for the party tonight. Rest are recharging in the new building or out playing on the roads. Official cover is on the target range. Mister important over there is scared of guns and loud noises upset him."

"Major Lennox, call on the secure channel. Your wife." The communications officer of the watch interrupted. "Hey, I remember these books. Were a real hit years ago with my sons." He talked to Epps as Lennox spoke on his headset. They both heard the delighted cheer of Annabelle at the mention of books and presents from where they stood.

That weekend, she sat on Bumblebee's leg as he sat on the concrete floor, both peering intently at the seek and find pages. "There!" She squealed, pointing at the target. She heard a sound clip of applause as the yellow mech bobbed his head up and down. They continued page by page until lunchtime. The book was sat down, temporarily forgotten for hamburgers and ice cream.

"Sideswipe, look at this. Getting an idea?" Sunstreaker asked as the book balanced delicately in between two bright yellow metal fingers.

"You need more time off?" Sideswipe shrugged, adjusting the catch of his lower leg throwing blades.

"Look at this character. Remind you of anyone?" He pointed to the cover and waited.

"Now that you mention it, he does," He snickered, beginning to plan their afternoon. Hours later, the twins asked Bumblebee and Annabelle to join them in the reserve hangar.

:: The one Wheeljack uses for big projects? Is it safe? I promised Ironhide to watch and protect the youngling while he trains the new arrivals.:: Bumblebee

::Safe for a sparkling and that old grump too. Get over here already 'Bee:: Sideswipe

Bumblebee keyed the signal to open the doors, holding the girl in his metal hands. The least sign of any trouble and they would be out of there. His scouting programs were running full out, picking up literally hundreds of objects strewn about the area in no apparent order. Stepping inside, he whistled at the mess. Every object from empty gun clips to desk chairs to shoes to spare tires were sitting in piles and laid out across nearly the entire floor space. Wood and metal storage boxes were stacked to create mini walls and go arounds.

"Welcome to Annabelle's 3-D play world. Hi Prime, come on in." Optimus acknowledged the greeting with a nod, optics scanning the items strewn everywhere. "Is this safe for a human youngling?"

"She's not to touch anything. See?" Sideswipe handed her the book, looking over at his twin.

"Look for him sweetie." Sunstreaker encouraged. Annabelle clutched the book to her chest then began walking around, taking time to see what each pile was. Bumblebee trailed along, determined to spot anything that could harm her by its existence let alone contact. Jazz strode in, looking for Prime and stopped.

"What on Cybertron's three moons happened in here?" His sensors detected the single stationary human life in the back corner. Linking into the security cameras, he narrowed the nearest for a better look.

"Why is the human dressed like that?" Jazz asked, seeing the red and white striped shirt, large circular eye glasses, and striped knit cap. A wood walking stick leaned on the table next to him.

"Part of the game." Sunstreaker said.

"Release the human. He is a congressional aide, not a prisoner," Optimus instructed, his scans picking up the handcuffs and leg chains hid below the desk edge.

"We will Prime, soon as she finds Waldo."

_110. Do not enter street races, speed contests, demolition derbies or other human vehicle contests._ *Sideswipe and Sunstreaker (who else?)

Prowl's audio sensors increased receiving volume as he noticed the twins huddled together in a corner of the hangar. He knew from experience that huddle meant trouble as in planning a prank.

"Tonight, 8 pm. Race against S Nok and BR Cade." Sideswipe said.

"They agreed to a rematch or should I say restomping bro!" Sunstreaker gloated, pumping one metal fist into the air.

"Meet you at 7:45. I have perimeter patrol with the humans until them. Be ready."

"I'm always ready," he said, striking a pose as his twin transformed into a red Lamborghini and drove off.

"So am I." Prowl murmured softly, keying in the twins operating metrics to his onboard tracker. 7:00 found him by the main gate, waiting for the twins to sneak out. His black and white state patrol alt form helped him to hide in the shadows. 7:45 pm came and went, with no signs of the twins, causing him to check the tracker relay.

"They're in the game room? Possible diversionary ruse. I will verify." Prowl drove back to the hangar area, around to the next building, transforming into his bi pedal mode. He listened, hearing the distinctive twins' voices as they yelled encouragement to each other. Sneaking in, he saw the twins holding modified game controllers, connected through their wrist connector cables, while the main screen displayed Xbox 360 demolition racecourse, four cars slamming and fighting it out.

"Hey Prowlie!" Jazz waved from the side chair. "Twins are winning this time! Come watch."

"What do you mean this time?" Sideswipe snarled, concentrating on his yellow racer.

"Twenty seconds left, make them count!" Sunstreaker yelled, ramming the black S Nok racer into the wall on screen. The time counted down then the room was filled with Autobot cheers. The twins won by two points, setting a new high score. Then the screen went dark as the other players abruptly disconnected.

At an abandoned building in the soho district of LA, the Decepticon assassin Scorponok threw his controller down, stomping it into little pieces.

"Easy there. How many of those you think I can steal?" Barricade warned, ducking the mech's swinging tail spike. "We'll win next time." The bio-linked scorpion shaped mech whined, nuzzling his metal head against Barricade's leg.

::Destroy, romp tonight?:: Scorponok sent.

"Sure, why not. I'll load Robot Battle Wars IV, you get the energon snacks."

**NEST BASE – Game Room (post twin win)**

Jazz picked up the controllers, winding the cords before setting them back into the corner box. "Why the twins are such slobs in life and so meticulous in their fighting I will never know. Leave me to clean up." A human cough and the soft shuffling of feet interrupted him.

"I'm John Booth, congressional aide. I have questions to ask of you."

"Me?" The mech pointed left then right. "Guest quarters are that way, main hangar the other." His optics narrowed as the man approached, practically standing on his foot.

"So, you and Prowl huh?" The aide chortled, patting Jazz's lower leg plating.

"Me and Prowl what?" the mech asked, raising both hands up and out, not understanding. He stepped back, folding his legs to sit on the ground, waiting for the man to continue. The man leaned in close, dropping his voice as he explained.

"WHAT? No…we're...not…I'd never…." Jazz stopped, feeling a pulsing sensation in his energon tank. The idea he used his friendship with a superior officer to get out of trouble insulted his honor. The idea of his sacrifice to save Sam at Mission City left him flawed bothered him more. "That's not true. Prowl is my friend. And I earned my rank, then and now, check my records."

"Come on, you can tell me," the human said. "You're a spy right? What blackmail did you use then? No way Prowl and Prime would allow you to be an officer."

Jazz waited for his tank churning to settle, instead it increased. Standing, he ran out the door to the recycling area as internal sensors began flashing their warnings. Reaching almost blindly, he grabbed an empty fifty gallon drum and purged his energon tank back out. He was easing off as the base guard patrol walked by.

"Party animal," The sentry said, recognizing Jazz.

"I remember those days," the other sentry smiled.

"Remember? I still do them! Was at one last week with …" their voices trailed off as Jazz kneeled, sick and dizzy.

In med bay, Ratchet looked up, only half-listening to whoever was calling him. No mech or femme appeared. Frowning, he leaned back over his work then hesitated. 'I'm not one to imagine things.' He reached, keying in all Autobot signals, sending a tight beam, low-level pulse. All but one returned immediately, strong and clear. The chief medical officer keyed in another command, displaying locations, focusing on the weak signal. "Recycling yard? Better not be stealing parts for that shield of his again."

Jazz knelt, external sensors fuzzy as his system tried running a reboot. It failed again. The softest touch on his chin plates lifted his head as a strong arm went around his shoulders.

"Easy there buddy," Ratchet reassured, tapping directly into his neck port, pulling readings. Ratchet frowned, not finding a medical trigger for the energon purge.

::Prime, I need you at the east side recycling center. Jazz is down. Can you assist?:: Ratchet

::On my way:: Optimus sent and then arrived shortly.

"Move him slowly and steady. The half-processed energon acid burned his main lines. One is dangerously near his spark. I'm running repair patches now on his systems." He stopped, creating logic overrides and uploading them remotely.

The tall red and blue armored mech knelt, moving to lift the other mech up into his arms with minimum jarring. "Is the energon compromised? Should I have Prowl remove it for testing?"

"No, Jazz's original lines needing replacing and I didn't have enough supplies. I had to configure human made ones. And they have nothing designed to match our sensors. I chose between power units and inhibitors," Ratchet explained, his optics intent on the internal work.

"You did nothing short of miracle repairs then and now. How bad is the damage?"

"Energon in its pure form was within tolerable limits on the glass shielding. At least three lines need relaying. I cautioned him on getting upset. Without the flow inhibitor, his tanks churn and he purges," Ratchet explained, his tone harsh and grating as they moved across the tarmac.

"Any idea what upset him?"

"None and it's not important as I used weak human materials and this results, " he said.

"No one has ever disparaged your work," Optimus reminded.

"I disparage it. Never enough fast enough," the medic grumbled, leading the way into the repair bay.

_To be continued…_


	30. Chapter 30 The things we say

Author's Notes: Thanks for all the fans who added me to favorite stories and favorite authors. I've also enjoyed the e-mail asking for ideas, talking in general and sharing about fics back and forth with other writers. Fan fiction is my version of my space and facebook.

On Rule 104 I'm not sure how many people will be able to get the right mental picture. It's more a visual joke. Tried to write what you should see mentally, hope it worked. And I don't own Transformers, NEST or the Witwicky family. I do own five cats that are trained enough to stay off the keyboard when I'm typing on a fic. Onward to peaceful afternoons, chasing down congressional aide secret plans and silliness.

TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TRANSFORMERS

"Mikeala, please. Just this once?" Sam begged, his entire body tense with longing. The afternoon breeze rustled the tree leaves above them, scattering the fall colors. The wood bench creaked as he shifted closer. Blinking his eyes puppy dog like, "Please?"

"You always say just this once you dork." She reminded with a grimace, pushing his hand off her shoulder.

"But I'm your dork. Bumblebee refuses and you know you like to do that for me." He leaned closer, blowing on her neck. She giggled and pulled away, glaring at him.

"Fine, I'll get you a cheeseburger and fries, no soda. You explain to 'Bee why you ignored orders to eat healthy." She slid off the bench and walked into the fast food restaurant, ignoring the way the guys inside drooled over her thin shape. Still glaring, she returned quickly with a large food bag. Tossing it in front of him, she sipped her ice tea as he ripped the bag apart. "Sam, seriously. You eat worse in college than you did in high school."

"Me? Nah. Mfffpp." He grabbed the French fries, practically swallowing them whole.

"Ratchet showed me the results of your last scan. Your cholesterol was sky high, you were exhausted and stress indicators were up."

"Boring textbooks, mid terms, and papers to write." He paused, taking a chomp out of the cheeseburger. "Nothing wrong with me."

"Then why did you call Optimus for a ride?" She countered, grabbing a napkin and waving it his direction. He ignored it, wiping the ketchup off his shirt with a finger and smearing it back on the burger.

"I called 'Bee. He was in med bay after learning Optimus was his dad. *chomp chomp * I needed a break. Spent time with you didn't I?" He smiled then stuffed the last third of the burger in his mouth.

"Sam, that's gross. You're a human not a chipmunk. And hurry up. Bumblebee will arrive soon." She grabbed the papers, crumpling them into the bag for the trash as he headed inside to wash up. "Men. More like children than anything. Maybe I should stick with Transformers. Like 'Bee. He's smart, sleek and strong," she flung the trash into the metal waste can. "Appreciate me and not ramble on with excuses. Kissing might be an issue but who needs physical all the time? He'd not step on my feelings or me."

Grabbing the last napkin off the table, Mikeala began wiping the ketchup on her arm, not paying attention. Turning, she started to take a step, colliding with the front bumper, losing her balance and falling to lay across Bumblebee's hood. He never moved, though his engine revved as she got up.

"Oh my gosh! I'm sorry 'Bee, I didn't see…wait." She stopped, hands on hips and stared at his dash. "How much did you hear?"

"_When I need you, I just close my eyes_," played from the radio as he bounced up and down with laughter. He continued bouncing when she blushed scarlet, wanting to die on the spot.

"You flirting with my girl buddy?" Sam asked, approaching the car. "Hey!" He yelped as the driver door swung open, pushing him back. "I share."

"Sam!" Mikeala yelled angrily and Bumblebee hissed at him angrily, pretending to vent steam from a radiator his alt mode didn't require. The passenger door opened slowly for her, as the Camaro shut the driver door before he could get in.

"What? Is this about the food? Come on! I don't do drugs, never smoked and no drinking. What's a little grease and fat now and then?" Placing both hands on his head, his body stretched tight then sagged. "Okay, I promised I would _try_ to eat healthy. Look, if it helps I'll join the NEST team this weekend. Go run around the island with them. After being chased by Megatron how hard could they be?" Neither answered but the driver door opened normally.

_104. Do not show a lack of respect to any command officer based on physical appearance or injuries, NEST or human. _

"I thought being a leader meant making difficult choices," Optimus said, sorting through data requests from various base personnel. "The budget review recommended sacrifices, cut backs and general adjustments." He stamped two counter approvals beside Major Lennox's signature then threw them in the outgoing box. "More rubber bullets and less live ammo in drills to keep the explosives, the men accept. Less meat but keep the desserts. Get new uniforms less to keep the video entertainment systems updated with the latest titles. Nice to see priorities are in order." He stopped, wanting to crumple the form in his hand.

'Recommend the Transformers act as personal transport to more officials in peaceful times,' the document stated. Halfway down was the other recommendation, 'Refrain from unnecessary use of self driving to decrease mileage reimbursement.'

"We are not galactic taxis to go to and from the airport. Our alt forms are mostly vehicles. Should we walk everywhere?" Reaching, he grabbed back out the budget overview and made a few changes. "Food budget is doubled. Entertainment is now doubled. Expense spending for non base personnel visiting, a half times increase. Spending for government officials visiting cut to one tenth." He stamped his official symbol on them, recapping the end of his first finger. "There, my priorities for our supporters." Audio sensors detected a heavy footfall approaching down the hallway. Patterns were cross referenced, identifying the tread as his second in command.

"Prime, we have a situation," Prowl began.

"When do we not?" Optimus answered, wanting to pound something apart. He immediately locked down his temper, knowing little pieces never helped a bigger problem.

"The wash racks were refilled with paint altering chemicals."

"Let me guess, reset by red and yellow twins?" He made a palms up surrender gesture.

"No. They were the first victims. Hound and one other also."

Optimus felt his jaw gears momentarily fail, dropping his jaw in shock. "Not them? Then who?"

"It was a human new to base. Under orders to help us conceal our existence and went overboard, stealing Wheeljack's formula for non-reflective enameller and trying to alter it. The twins are in med bay, hiding not injured," he reassured. "Until their forms can be repainted. They are now a dull asteroid grey. No shine or color anywhere. The human is in custody and under guard. Several NEST members took exception to his actions and he is being protected until transferred off base. I have secured the wash racks, programming a security lock only an Autobot can engage."

"Why tell me in person and not in a report?" Optimus asked, indicating the waiting data pile on his desk.

"Video recordings indicated you washed yesterday," Prowl said, optics looking anywhere but at the mech sitting at the desk. "You've been in your office on video conferences or private quarters since then."

"Me?"

"I ran probability variations. You should be white. A basic, medium shine white once the sunlight activates the chemicals." He looked directly at him, frowning.

"Repainting will take days. I have meetings to attend as our representative. Be easier to rescan the original vehicle. Locate it via the shipping company records." Optimus said, grabbing the next document.

"Uhm, slight problem there."

"As in?" He narrowed his optics, waiting.

"The latest version was destroyed six months ago."

"Destroyed?" His tone was flat and without emotion. Prowl vented softly, recognizing what that meant. An explanation and a thorough one was required.

"The original was destroyed two years ago, three copies since then all met with accidents. We, Ironhide and I, think it was the Decepticons after you. Good guy white? Maybe time to change your colors?" Prowl concluded, seeing blue optics before him flickering with red.

"I am keeping my colors. And why was I not notified about the incidents?"

"There were no official reports. Jazz saw a twitter posting on the last accident. Researched and forwarded the information to me. Scheduled the matter for review at the month end meeting." He didn't remind Optimus that it was three days away. His desk had been covered with security recommendations, most discarded as unnecessary and redundant.

::EMERGENCY ALERT - DECEPTICON SIGHTING - MT MUJAMI::

Both mechs were on their feet and running before the alert finished. NEST planes were loaded and airborne in fifteen minutes. It was almost twenty-four hours later they returned, carrying two smaller offlined, Decepticon drones. Nobody said a word as Optimus Prime rolled out of the plane and transformed. His black protoform contrasted with his pure white armor. He limped forward, swinging his injured foot to the side, deliberately ignoring the snickers.

His weight had triggered the precipice he had been fighting on to crumble, dropping him and one the drones into the abyss below. He landed, with an overloaded ankle strut failure the only injury. The drone he landed on was flattened beyond recognition. The men found his predicament hilarious once the unusual gait had been required.

'Any other mech would have blasted them by now. Not that I'm not tempted,' he grumbled mentally. 'Offlining everyone means getting all new staff. But if one more person,' he stopped, swinging his broken foot to the side, 'mentions penguins I will remove my weapons locks and aim close. Very close.'

**CONGRESSIONAL AIDE, JAZZ AND RECOVERY (PT 2)**

Entering med bay, Optimus paused to watch Ratchet updating the settings on Jazz's med berth.

"He's fine Prime. Or should I say phantom of the opera with those colors?" The green and yellow medic joked without looking. "Finishing an upgrade to his audio memory systems. Was nearly maxed out with his music collection. Increasing it again."

"I found out what caused him to become upset, triggering the purge," Optimus said as he hobbled over to an empty medical berth. "The man started by asking if one of them was a femme."

"Prowl a femme? Is that human blind? Hmm, not a bad thought. Could be arranged. Wheeljack could design him a finder drone so he could get a slagging clue!"

Optimus sighed, feeling the same exasperation and anger when he had heard the reasons. "No, that Jazz was acting as a femme to Prowl. Or blackmailing him and me to stay an officer after getting offlined at Mission city."

Ratchet froze in place, fingers twitching, "Of all the $%^* disgusting human ideas! Our relationships are none of his business! And that one is not possible! Prowl cares for logic only. The twins and Jazz keep him sane and that human thinks Prowl is capable of being blackmailed? He's our second in command!"

"He also asked if," the mech stopped, noticing Jazz's optics were opened. Optimus tilted his head towards him in greeting before continuing. "Bumblebee and Sam, Sam and I, Ironhide and I, the three Arcee triples with me, you with Mikeala, and a variety of OC's were personal relationships in current existence."

"What's an OC?" Jazz asked.

"Other choices. And not as friends between two races wanting peace or an end to our war. That we, the Transformers, use them for our needs and have motives we are hiding from the human race."

"That's outrageous man!" Jazz sat up then fell flat as a wrench flew his way.

"Worse, he accused us of planning to turn humans like Sam and Mikeala into Autobots. That our alien ways are for conquest and not friendship, no matter what we say." Both dropped their jaws, optics flashing as they tried processing that one.

"If we're the ones fighting to protect them and they accuse us of that, what do they think about the Decepticons?" Ratchet muttered, stalking off to parts storage in the next room.

Captain Jorgenson heard about the incident when she came on shift that evening. Furious, she called every family member and a dozen favors she was owed politically from her time as a secret service agent at the white house. Gathering evidence, she built a case against the congressional aide before calling the Autobots to an emergency meeting.

"These three packets were found in his personal mailbox in town. This one was in his briefcase ready to go. Notice anything?" She pointed to the pile.

"Typical huge numbers report?" Major Lennox guessed.

"Lots and lots of dead, dry, boring pages that were once a living tree?" Sergeant Epps added.

"Look at the numbers. See all the ones and zeroes? Very few other numbers anywhere on any page. It is binary! All these together create a cipher code to unlock the Autobot mainframe for access." She said.

"Access? Why not the main program?" A human voice in the back inquired.

Major Lennox jumped in first, "Too complex. That would require gazillion pages of code. So why the questions about the bots? A distraction?"

Jorgensen curled her lip, disgust plain on her face. "He worked in the cyber crimes and special cases divisions for awhile. Helping track online predators against children while reviewing every indecent, perverted thing known to man. Then he worked cases with every form of power grabbing from kidnapping, assassination to outright bribery. Thought our mechanical friends here had to share those same perversions. Failed to believe any race was not obsessive gaining money and power to advance. Or that they spark mate for life with only one partner of their own race. He has been divorced three times. Turned him sour on relationships."

"That's not justification for security breaches, or stealing protected intellectual property." Lennox said, hearing murmurs of approval among his men. "We have him in custody pending extradition to federal authorities. These reports are evidence," he emphasized, having heard Ironhide rolling his cannons earlier. "Keep a few pages for proof, the rest you may have. Any other questions?"

"Why did the human femmes marry him in the first place?" A mechanical voice asked.

_121. Do not reveal our existence over the internet through e-mail, web chat, blogs or interpersonal sites. _*All Autobots have instant connection worldwide so this applies to everybot.

"What are they arguing about?" Optimus asked Prowl. The vocal volume had risen, enabling the sound to carry outside to the tarmac where they stood.

"Their net names. The government is adding website links and priority relays in the event of another battlefield communications breakdown like in Egypt." Prowl said. "We're not allowed to use our real names, any version. Moreover, you have final approval."

'Primus,' Optimus snickered silently, 'I know what I want. This could get fun. Especially if I have to approve them all.' He moved inside, keeping a serene look to his faceplates as he approached.

"I'm a femme magnet." Sunstreaker argued with Sideswipe. "Create fun and make valuable contributions daily. I need a name that shows my true psyche."

'Fantasyaddict101 for Sunstreaker. Payback for his prank on me last orn.' Optimus noted internally. 'Sideswipe is Fireblade40. Red for fire and no one else is better with a sword. Ironhide is cannondevotee15. Ratchet would be wrenchflinger9 and Bumblebee. Hmm, sirenshield89. Never heard a sparkling yell so loud. My audio sensors use to hurt for a breem after he cried. Making him Sam's guardian was an inspired choice. I am bluecore10. My old protoform was blue and I am the core of this group as Prime. Least it is more original than their nickname of big bot. Unless they create something suitable."

His texting system flashed, receiving a text from Sam. "Thank you so much for the tickets! Concert of a lifetime. Owe you big. Love, Sam." He blinked, seeing an attachment on the message end. Forwarded from Bumblebee's system. 'Yellow Prime! He did not sign it that way? He did!' Optimus laughed, as the others turned to look at him. He waved for them to continue their discussion before transforming into his semi alt mode, taking his turn at perimeter patrol.

_126. Do not refuse, hide or attempt to evade Autobot Command when creating a prank or acting it out and they ask. In addition, warn them of potentially hazardous, to human or Autobot, confiscated equipment in their possession. _

Prowl glared at the two Aerialbots, wondering if trouble always came in twos. 'Major twins are headaches, minor twins are an uneducated nightmare and these two aerial bots are a terrible duo. The other three behave, why not all five when they are a combine team?' He shifted his stance, holding out one white armored hand. His door wings flared out straight to each side like a silent black and white barrier.

"Turn over that device or spend the rest of this orn in the brig. Ironhide and Optimus Prime will back me on this when they return. Any attempt to evade and I will have Ratchet pin your wings after letting Sideswipe and Sunstreaker contain you. Is that clear?" Wordlessly, Air Raid handed him the unit.

"Wise choice." Prowl said then headed back the way he came.

Skids green car alt mode slid around the corner and stopped at their feet, transforming. "Ready to hide it?"

"No." Air Raid answered, pointing to the retreating black and white shape.

"He got it?"

"Yes"

"Did you tell him it was Wheeljack's?"

"No."

"Uh oh." They looked at each other, wondering who to tell.

::Silverbolt, we, or rather Prowl is going to have a problem:: Air Raid

::Tell Prowl:: Silverbolt

::Where are you? Discuss mech to mech:: Air Raid

::The landing field, where else?:: Silverbolt answered, transforming and waiting for the others to arrive.

"Wheeljack created a device to sneak drop on Decepticons." Skids began.

"Only he is on a research mission to the Arctic Circle linking the research stations to spot incoming meteors in case they are inbound Transformers. Send them here instead of all the odd places they keep landing." Air Raid continued explaining, lowering his red and white wings.

"Like the edge of the county fair in Texas? Every citizen there carries a gun and knows how to use them. Alternatively, a swamp in Louisiana full of alligators who are attracted to our metal smell? Or the dormant volcano Mt St Helens? That landing triggered fears of an eruption and an evacuation of nearby by campgrounds if I remember right. I see your point." Silverbolt admitted. "We need Wheeljack there. So what's the problem?" He listened patiently as they explained how they had found out about the device, borrowed it out of the lab and were planning to use its lower functions when Prowl had discovered them sneaking it.

"Prowl has the device? And it's active without him knowing what it is?"

"Yes." The three of them answered.

::Silverbolt to Prowl, answer please:: No response echoed. "Wheeljack's inner lab is shielded, can't hear me. If that goes off in there? Never find his pieces."

**KABOOM!**

::Autobot emergency. Rescue teams to Wheeljack's lab. Prowl is down, status unknown. I repeat, Prowl is down:: Silverbolt broadcasted as they all ran for the lab. Prowl was found outside the entrance, crunched into the pavement, online but stunned. His backside was scratched and grooved from the shrapnel but no internal injuries or energon leaks.

It was the fallout from the lab that proved the problem. The detonated sticky bomb created electromagnetic fields on everything nearby. Wheeljack's concept had been to cover any nearby bot in metal, removing any chance of hiding in subspace or using a cloak. The plan to disable the advantage Skywarp and Thundercracker used in Decepticon attacks.

What it did on the Diego Garcia NEST base was make lots and lots of little pieces of Wheeljack's experiments stick to every surface. Worse, some smaller experiments survived intact and went active when moved or touched. The fallout only affected the west third of the base but was still dangerous when Optimus and the other teams returned. Ironhide discovered the solution of blasting the debris rather than trying to catch or remove it. Unless it was on a fellow Autobot or human. Though he offered to make an exception for the twins and two certain Aerialbots.

_to be continued..._


	31. Chapter 31 Appearances and repair work

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Shows people are still reading and laughing. One of the rules has an amended date on it of 09/26/09. I know that date is still coming as of this posting. It is my birthday and I could not resist adding that date in there. In Transformers movie 1 - ladiesman217 is Michael Bay's birthday - Feb. 17th and his old nickname from what I read in an interview. For a hilarious fic on what the original Transformers thought of the first movie, read _What the Transformers Thought of Transformers 07_ by Kibble Beast.

Okay, Rule 125 may come across silly but that was how it worked out. A way to add reviewer suggestions of possible rules that were basic, wrong time span as NEST and Transformers have worked together for over five years, or too hard to fit in elsewhere until now. And I did see a teen with the body art on his arms as described in Rule 134.

S&MK S&MK S&MK S&MK S&MK S&MK S&MK

Optimus sat on his recharge berth, hesitating to stretch out his twenty eight foot plus frame. The recharge warning had been silenced and the actual trigger was looping for the third time, delaying it. "What is wrong with me? My spark aches." He held a blue armored fist over his chest, feeling his spark pulse oddly.

"I could ask Ratchet to scan me?" he contemplated for an astro second. "Bad idea. Last time I asked, he kept me offline for quarter of an orn, upgrading and realigning everything but the color of my optics. Ironhide maybe? My old bodyguard and friend? No, he worries too much now. Jazz is on a mission. I can wait until he returns. The others are trust worthy but would not understand this. Probably treat me like a youngling." His spark pulsed brightly once, leaving him venting rapidly in reaction. "Ohh, any more like that and I'll crack a spark spire." As if hearing, it calmed, returning to its normal pulsing.

Hesitantly, he set a systems alert to contact Ratchet and only Ratchet on a tight frequency should his spark flare dangerously high or fall below operational levels. Stretching out on his back plates, he recited a favorite set of verses from his childhood teachings, allowing the recharge loop to complete. In med bay, Ratchet came instantly to attention, receiving an echo of a systems alert program setting. "Prime? Why would he set an alert?"

::Ratchet, Prime set an alert for his spark. What the slag is going on? What aren't you two telling me?:: Ironhide

::Tell you? Seems you keep well informed now:: Ratchet snorted, automatically pulling up the last scans he had of their leader.

::I'm his bodyguard and third in command:: Ironhide

::And that explains you tapping into his main processor alert system with a notification relay?:: Ratchet challenged then softened. ::I'm verifying now. You know Prime never regards his health, stubborn aft he is. And tell me how you set the echo and I'll not tell him which bot repainted his silver trailer to look like a mobile home complete with roll out awning and pink yard flamingos::

::Flamingos were from Bumblebee and Sam:: Ironhide sent then walked in through the med bay doors. "You tell me Prime's medical condition and I'll not tell him who reset his optics to turn red every time he said 'lose', 'important, or 'unacceptable' right before a budget meeting with the senate back on Iacon. As in 'we cannot afford to lose those defenses, they are important and their removal is unacceptable."

"You wouldn't?!"

The tall black mech nodded once, pretending to wipe a smudge on his arm cannon. "Or which medic changed his energon double edged ax to a long sword, thinking to keep him further away in a fight and never told him it was changed."

"He loves that sword." Ratchet mumbled, rerunning the last scans again.

"Except the first time when he went to wedge open a stubborn door with the ax, the sword slicing it into pieces as Elita and Arcee watched." He pantomimed the forward motion then oops, pieces falling to the floor.

"Both femmes were impressed. Nothing in the scans. I will talk to him tomorrow. If he resists, we'll force the issue."

"You mean ask, threaten then overpower and drag his stasis locked form here?" Ironhide grinned, remembering the last couple of times that had happened. "Got to love a reason to take down your boss bot without consequences."

_116. When a human official asks, why do you break down so often? Do not reply:_

_a. My cannons have over ten thousand moving parts and you have one brain you cannot even keep running? _*Ironhide

_b. Foreign made parts. Earth stuff. Know where I can get anything different? _*Sideswipe

_c. I am over forty thousand years old! One part failing is a minor problem, unlike you!_

_d. You take four direct hits and see if you can keep all the parts working._

_e. Four times in ten thousand years? Your car needs maintenance yearly and you're complaining about me?_

_f. This part or your life on the battlefield, I guess I know which one to choose next time fleshling!_

_g. Big bad enemies take big bag guns that have big bad breakdowns like duh! _*Bumblebee

_h. Answer in a half a breem, counting how many hundreds of Decepticons I have offlined with this part before it wore out._

_i. Are you implying I am or have a glitch?! _*Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, and Ironhide.

_j. The warranty only covered a thousand years. Amazing how quickly time passes. _*Mirage

_k. Here are the parts. You tell me what they did, how they work together or how to replace them and I won't charge a penny to the budget. Not a clue huh human? _*Ratchet, Ultra Magnus.

_125. Do not leave restricted information unsecured or easily compromised by humans, friends or enemies. _

Sergeant Epps raised a closed fist, silently commanding the men following to stop. Ears straining, they listened for mechanical footfalls. Epps signaled move ahead, then crept around the corner. First gunnery sergeant Markesan snapped into position, covering the front. Espionage expert Harrison knelt behind him, avidly watching the motion detector he carried. Epps waved the two men in and through the doorway. Closing the giant door took all three of them pushing and straining. Leaning against it, they grinned triumphantly.

"Now we will see what the famous 'Prowl do not do' list looks like." Epps gloated, rubbing his hands together. They secured a rope, climbing up the side of the desk. Stomping hard, he keyed the enormous datapad on. It booted almost immediately, displaying a password field.

"Now what?" Markesan asked.

"Try the question mark below it." Harrison suggested, glancing nervously at the motion detector.

_Password hint: What do I love?_

"Hmm, five spaces, all main letters, no numbers." Harrison figured out.

"LOGIC!" They shouted in unison. The datapad accepted the entry, opening a master file and began displaying the following.

_5. Do not change translator programs of Cybertronian to English phrases including but not limited to the following: _*Twins

_a. 'Run me over please' does not translate from 'Which way to my office?'_

_b. 'You look weak and puny' does not translate from 'Which one is the Prime?'_

_c. 'I hope the Decepticons win' never translates from 'I'm the new liaison. Can I have your help?' _

_7. Do not remain standing when communicating with humans more than two breems. Their protoforms cannot handle the upwards stress, causing strain and injury to cables and supports_.

_12. Do not become upset when humans offer to gas you up. Remind them we are energon users, not fossil fuels. Do not:_

_a. Threaten to place the nozzle in them to return the favor._

_b. Spray any on them. The substance is hazardous and extremely flammable. Any combustion and they could die from horrible burn injuries, resulting in a trial and you being offlined for murder. _

_c. State, "I'm a hybrid. I need electricity not gas." Unless you are Jolt and use electricity. _

_d. Look dumb aft! My gauge reads full! Figure it out!_

_e. Not at that price! I want the corner station by base. I get rewards points for filling there. _

_f. Decepticons use fuel, we take sunshine and love to stay running. _

_g. Only if you are buying government boy._

_h. Check my tire pressure, clean the windshield and refill the washer fluid while you are standing there huh? _

_i. I am cutting back. Do these cannons make my arms look fat? _

_j. Why? If you are buying, do not go expecting favors after dark. Get you own ride back to base._

_k. Is this a bribe? Bribes are against the rules and can result in fines and jail time fleshling. _

_l. Accept it for transfer later, then take them to a fast food restaurant, super sizing everything to fill them with grease and fat to repay the insult we have no taste in our choices of fuels. _

_15. Do not get upset by short human attention spans_.

"Short? Who has a short span? " Epps groused, reading that far.

"Look, the colors." Markesan pointed at the wall unit, watching its colors rotate and spin with each astro second.

"Oh, shiny!" Harrison said, as he noticed the Autobot sized pen.

The two-way radio in Epps back pocket buzzed. "Lennox to Epps. Where are you man? Lunch is almost over. There won't be any chocolate cake left if you don't get it in gear soldier."

"On my way." Epps answered. The men scaled down the rope, released the catch and packed it away. It took all three of them to open the door then slide it close. Prowl monitored them until they left the building via the security cameras. Chuckling, he entered his office, keying the password command. "I love PEACE the most. As in peace and quiet with all the troublemakers off base or in the brig." The real list displayed, scrolling down past the first hundred rules.

_134. Do not take photo images of the humans for any purposes not approved and never of children, sparklings, or younglings without parental permission or Autobot command review. _

Sam doodled their names on his notebook as he waited. S&MK. "I always hated SW. Either a direction or vegetable brand,' he groused mentally. 'Mikeala loves her first name and not her last. I like Banes. Meant she was in the front of the class and me in the back with Witwicky. I could watch her come and go, what she did in class and how she moved. Only Ziegler ever sat behind me and left in the third grade. Therefore S&MK it is. **S**am and **M**i**K**eala." The clock tower rang out, reminding the college students of the afternoon time. "Better get going or I'll be late!" He yelped, grabbing his stuff.

"Hey Cody, nice color!" A blonde haired girl yelled out, waving to a fellow student walking into view. His deep blue hair stood out against the red jacket and black jeans on his tall lanky frame. Optimus shifted on his axles as he waited in the parking lot, turning ever slightly to follow the human teen. The human unzipped his red jacket, revealing body art. Alien optics narrowed in on his tattoos, blue and red stylized flames running from shoulder to wrist.

Sam jogged down the walkway, trying to balance his books and laptop bag at the same time. "New holo Optimus?" he greeted the teen. "Kind of obvious don't you think? Hold on," his pocket buzzed as the cell phone received a text message.

:: Sam that is not me. I am in front of you:: Big bot

His head snapped up to see a six foot plus tall man wearing cowboy boots, blue jeans, red shirt and white cowboy hat standing on the steps of his semi alt mode. The red Autobot symbol on the grill flashed in the sunlight.

"Wrong person, sorry," Sam apologized, staring at the others wild blue hair.

"Huh, you say something?" the youth asked, reaching up and removing earplugs to his iPod.

Optimus shared the story with the other bots, showing a hologram of the teen. They all had laughed then began watching humans more intently when off base. A file began on the mainframe, called "we are not so different." Humans alongside of various mechs, and even one of the Arcee tri were posted to be voted on. Sunstreaker declared the blonde actor was not as good looking as he was, Ironhide threatened anyone attempting to compare him to a human, and Prowl reminded everyone they could not change their drivers to match any person living though his human was a near exact match, State Trooper Peter Rowley.

_150. Do not damage, destroy or endanger NEST base property, government issued supplies, or human owned items through careless behavior or the pursuing of a prank. Damages to repair will come of out of the Autobot fund and your name placed next to the amount paid. Amended 09.26.09 There is __**no prize**__ for the most expensive damage, most times on the list or most creative damage despite what you may have heard. *_Twins, Ironhide, Optimus Prime, Wheeljack, Ultra Magnus and Grimlock.

Optimus ran forward, seeing the knife blade descending. "Too far too far too far to save her." He chanted, reaching for the pink shape bent forward on the ground. His sparkmate was about to be offlined and he would never reach her in time. A dark shadow loomed as he screamed, reaching.

WHISK STAB SLICE CRACK CRACK CHUNK

Optimus snapped his optics open, discerning his private recharge area by the light of his energon sword. 'Sword? Oh Primus.' He stabilized, realizing the nightmare had triggered his defenses, unsheathing the sword from his arm. Jamming it into the wall, then slicing up as he had sat up. Concrete pieces were on his berth and the floor, a testament to the weakness of rebar concrete against Cybertronian weapons. Sheepishly, he retracted the sword, bringing up the room lights remotely.

::Optimus, report to med bay. You need to update your scans and every other bot is in recharge:: Ratchet

::Why aren't you in recharge?:: Optimus

::I never sleep. On call forever with you lug heads. Med bay?:: Ratchet

::No need:: Optimus felt his spark, the pulsing steady, deep within his chest plates. Even the matrix was dormant. ::Schedule for next month please. Prime out:: He closed the line as the next one signaled in.

::Do you ever recharge Prime?:: Ironhide

::Neither apparently do my command officers:: Optimus retorted, sliding off the berth, taking care not to step on the debris pieces.

::On guard against the 'Cons. Sneaky fraggers. Want to watch the sunrise? Once the humans wake, they take the beach over:: Ironhide.

:: A sunrise?:: Optimus

::Want, need to talk. Chromia and I are thinking of having a sparkling. Want your input without any other glitches listening in:: Ironhide

::Meet you there:: Optimus answered, almost sputtering in shock. 'Ironhide with his own sparkling? This conversation will be one for the archives.'

_To be continued…._


	32. Chapter 32 Relationships and Romance

Author's Notes: _**Warning:**_ Chief Medical Officer Ratchet has determined that reading these rules while eating or drinking IS HAZARDOUS TO YOUR HEALTH! Do not have such items in your mouth or hands. You will choke, spit and make a mess. Some chapters far more than others.

Another created character in Rule 106 since no other known bot worked. They do seem to appear with plot bunnies.*sigh* I like Barricade so he did not fit this attack sequence. Story arc is more Prime and spark coding issues, chapter 2 of 4. For intimate Optimus and Elita interaction, read fic _Scent of the Future _by Phoenix13. Onward to relationships and romance.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

NEST forces walked out the plane, weary and aching.

"You know what I wonder?" Sergeant Epps began, cradling broken pieces of the sabot launcher.

"Why no one on our teams got killed? Why we missed those Decepticons or how long we can keep the Transformers a secret?" Major Will Lennox guessed, watching his men pass by, keeping an eye for injured ones needing help.

"Why does Megatron have teeth?" They all stopped and looked at the black sergeant, the shock plain on their faces.

"He has claws and that entire spindly amour to look bad aft. But why teeth? Transformers don't eat. He had them before arriving on earth so what? He use to shred paper and recycle it out his back as a job?" He ignored their snickers at that image. "Optimus was a welder who built bridges, Ratchet and Ultra Magnus were politicians before their military careers. Ironhide was a bodyguard and Jazz a mercenary thief. So Megatron was ?"

"High Lord Protector, co-ruler over Cybertron." The deep, calm voice of Optimus Prime made them jump. "He adds to his protoform with the parts of slain enemies. As for teeth," the giant mech shrugged. "Megatron does not need a reason for what he does. We can only hope his madness will be his undoing. His fighters attack anytime anywhere to kill and mangle. We cannot slacken in our vigilance."

_106. Do not attempt untried battle maneuvers in actual combat situations based on human action movies and their fight sequences. You will have to deal with Autobot command Optimus Prime, Weapons Specialist Ironhide, Field Operations Jazz and Chief Medical Officer Ratchet. Your title will be Slag Spare bits by the time they are done with you. _Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Skids, Mudflap, and Bumblebee.

"'Bee? Bee?" You in recharge?" Sam tapped the Camaro's hood, not receiving a response. Lennox looked up, sheepishly realizing no one had told the youth about the new procedures in the hangar.

"Sam! Bumblebee is on the target range with Ironhide. Vehicles in this red striped area for scanning only. All transforms are kept active now for practice. Those three are plain old wheels."

"Explains why I didn't feel the pulse in my head," the boy murmured.

"What?" Lennox asked, moving closer. "What pulse?"

"Uhm, the vibration of a living being. On the hood, yah. You know, feels warm and alive not just metal when you touch it. Going now, to the firing range. See you later." The youth hurried out of the hangar as the Major frowned thoughtfully.

Halfway across the tarmac, Sam stopped, closing his eyes and seeming to listen to something. Grinning, he opened his eyes to see Bumblebee approaching from the other direction in his bi pedal mode, wings up high and a bounce to his steps. He waved, the sound of cheering playing all around him.

"Ready for the ninja movie festival? Starts at 7 tonight until sunrise. Stay up all night having fun!" Bumblebee clearly heard his question on sensitive audio relays and spun, kicking and punching the air fighting style before warbling an agreement sound. The boy laughed, delighted at the moves.

'He needs to laugh more. Too serious of late.' The yellow scout thought, transforming and rolling right up to his legs. The driver door opened, waiting.

"Love you 'Bee," the human sighed, leaning on the door and squeezing the top with both hands for a brief second before getting in. The car practically purred, adjusting the driver seat to fit his exact dimensions, softening the seat cushion. "Mikeala should be ready. Let's roll."

Sam fell asleep at 2 am in the driver seat while Mikeala made it to almost 3 am. The scout vented softly, engaging his drive, pulling out of the drive-in theatre. Windows darkened; he sped through the deserted streets, heading for their favorite scenic outlook. Before slipping into recharge, he replayed the movies, calculating and refiguring his battle computer with possible new moves.

PROXIMITY ALARM - WARNING - ATTENTION REQUIRED

Bumblebee jarred into awareness, weapons charging then shook, unable to transform from his alt mode.

_One tenth of a second since alert_

He almost panicked as the central processors refused commands. Overrides with his own programmer signature locked any transform attempt out.

_Next tenth of a second _

Then the external awareness sensors engaged, registering Sam and Mikeala sleeping inside the cab. He nearly spark attacked as he realized what had almost happened.

'They'd been offlined or crippled if I had transformed!' raced through his main processor.

_Half a second_

Peripheral scout scanners clicked on, registering a lone hostile source approaching rapidly.

_One second since alert _

His engine engaged, roaring to life. Wheels spinning he revved out of there.

"Uhm, what?" They groggily shook awake, bouncing over the uneven ground. "Where are we going?"

_Thirty seconds later _

Inside Bumblebee, sophisticated probability computers ran his odds. _Decepticon runner Darkmirth confirmed on attack vector. _

_Flee: 58% probability of escaping Darkmirth and ten-fold increase of collateral damage to human environments with probable human casualties._

_Stand and fight: 86% injury but able to defend family, minimal surrounding damage. _

_Call for help: 0% of other Autobots arriving in time to prevent attack._

"Time to go!" A man's voice played from the radio as Bumblebee slid to a stop, popping open both doors. The humans bailed out, running for cover among the trees. He transformed with battle mask pieces snapping into place.

Darkmirth transformed, leaping at the scout intending to tackle him and slice with his knuckle blades. But he screamed as Bumblebee dropped to one knee, grabbing and throwing the larger silver Decepticon aikido style. His yellow armored arm blasters fired into the falling 'cons back, weakening the armor but not reaching the spark. The enemy slammed down, sliding and throwing dirt as he fumbled to his clawed feet pads, chasing Bumblebee towards the road.

The intention was to jump, hit the pole with one foot while spinning to ram his attacker. Processors computed the duplication of the movie movement with one fatal error. The pole could not bear the scout's weight. It snapped as his yellow metal foot hit it, crashing down to hit Darkmirth with the light end. Glass exploded, sparks flying everywhere as the hot metal fused around his head. The Decepticon stopped, ripping the pole off. Bumblebee ducked the flying pole then swore as five Darkmirth forms appeared to his vision. They all were targeting him.

:Which one?!" when he heard Sam yelling.

"Middle left middle left middle arrrghghg!" Then silence as the five had turned, releasing a blast near his hiding spot.

"No! Sam!" Bumblebee screamed, releasing his weapons into the bot standing middle left. It rocked, the others disappearing as it went down. Sensors registered a power build up a second before Bumblebee dove for the ground, transforming into the Camaro shape.

KAWHOOM!

Sensors rebooted, detecting a smoking crater with two silver feet sticking out of it. 'Weapons overload. Must have lost it, literally at the end. 'Cons never keep safeties on their systems,' he processed fuzzily. Repair and diagnosis systems were flashing warnings by the dozens across his optics. Something touched his hood. "'Bee, you okay? You look awful. Please tell me you're okay?"

"Sam? *crack sizzle static*" sputtered through his vocalizer. The warnings subsided, allowing him to transform. Mikeala and Sam both appeared uninjured and the little bot relaxed then looked down at himself. 'O pit!' he swore. The yellow paint was bubbled on his armor, the window material on his wings was melted and warped like an object left too long in the sun. He gestured thumbs up, blackened paint chips flaking off his fingers. "I'm okay. External damage only," He wrote in the dirt then scuffed it out with his foot pad.

"We're okay. Once I grabbed Sam down," Mikeala glared at him. He backed up, hands defensive before she reached, grabbing and hugging him tightly. She relaxed against him, grateful for their survival. Transforming back, Bumblebee took the humans home, promising to return to Mikeala to be repainted. Sneaking onto base, a hologram hid the battle after effects.

'My nannites were fried in that blast. Grab a reload from Ratchet's cabinet supply and return to Mikeala at the rental garage. Repainted by tomorrow night without the others knowing,' he planned. The hallway was deserted; the med bay was empty with no bots on the recharge berths. 'Sensors offline. Looks clear,' he crept in, disengaging the hologram. 'There is the cabinet.' He transformed a finger, picking the lock and was reaching for the nannite containers when it happened.

"'Bee?!" Ironhide gasped, blue optics wide as Bumblebee looked over his energy warped door wing.

'Where did he come from? Maybe I can convince him not to,' his processors froze as Optimus and Ratchet hurried out of the spare room at the shout, sliding to a stop at his damaged appearance.

"Bumblebee!" They yelled.

"…"

_124. Do not try to assess human emotional states, especially those related to love, anger or both at the same mate or attached partner. Spark mating is rare and virtually unknown among their race. Listen and do not take sides, referring each or both to human medical staff, chaplain or counselor. Never Ratchet. _

"Sarah Lennox has a talent for drawing." Prowl noted, keeping the latest confiscated cartoons hid in between the data pads he carried. "But I will respect her wish to remain anonymous. Though she should tell her sparkmate. He will discover it eventually." Reaching his office, the giant door slid open allowing passage then automatically closed and locked. He began sorting the artwork.

'Low budget repairs' was written across the top of the first. Various Autobots were sketched all over the page. Optimus Prime's face with battle mask engaged, the metal plates replaced by two swinging wooden doors, like on an old fashioned saloon. Wheeljack had Mickey Mouse ears glued on the side of his head. Bumblebee looking down at his chest, the Camaro bumper shape gone, replaced with a yellow and black taxi paint job and taxi light glued on instead. Ironhide had a fifty gallon metal drum with giant rubber bands stretched inside in place of one of his cannons.

Prowl laughed, "I'm tempted to scan a copy and send to Ironhide and Prime. Not possible without compromising the identity of the artist. But I will send Sarah flowers anonymously. Though why truncated flora dying in a glass container shows value is beyond my comprehension."

Yelling human voices drifted through his door. He listened, discerning an argument over what they were feeling or not feeling for the other. A single tap on the side of his head and his audio sensors were shut down. Silence reigned even as the external camera showed the couple arguing fiercely as they slowly moved down the hallway.

::Prowl, the twins are going to be offlined. Comm Ratchet and tell him to start looking for the pieces::Ironhide sent, his tone smoldering with rage.

::What did they do?:: Prowl asked, wanting to close off the comm signal like his hearing but refrained. His job included keeping control of the peace, such as it was on Diego Garcia.

::Found out Chromia and I am trying for a sparkling. Suggested names:: Ironhide

::And that is a problem how?:: Prowl

::Look at these names!:: Ironhide flipped a data packet for review.

The security officer opened after scanning for virus and worm programs. 'Never trust those twins.' He pinched his nose plates, lowering his wings after reading it. 'All weapons and disaster related. Have they no taste?' He groused. ::That is not sufficient reason to offline them:: Prowl

::Chromia picked a name and won't tell me now. Afraid they will find it out. Worse, they told the humans and they are giving me suggestions on 'how to court and woo' her to make a sparkling. None of their slagging business!:: Ironhide

SECURITY OVERRIDE TO BRIG

::Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. The brig will open in five astro seconds. You have a breem to reach Optimus on the north perimeter patrol before Ironhide detects your bio signatures. I recommend you start moving now. And refrain from messing with matters between spark mates:: Prowl

_150. When a human asks, 'do you have a sparkmate?' do not :_

_a. Break down sobbing at how unfair the universe is that you are alone._

_b. Widen your optics and say "Why, did you want the position? You're a human!"_

_c. I did but then we fought and she left me to join the Decepticons. _

_d. Femmes? Who the slag needs them? _

_e. A spark mate would be illogical, time consuming and a pain in the aft. _

_f. I believe in shallow, spark with them and leave them relationships. _

_g. What? And lose all those responses to my online personal ads? *Checks online account* nothing but humans! Meh!_

_h. 5 known femmes (2 spark mated already) and 42 known mechs with more coming from the far reaches of space. What are my odds? _

_i. She's mine! Even look her way fleshling and I will hunt you down to Cybertron's far moons!_

_j. Because having a mech and a sparkling would be redundant._

_k. I did want a spark mate then worked with the twins for an Orn and that cured that. _

_l. Primus has protected me so far from that fate. _

_m. No, because Prime and Ultra Magnus aren't interested and their other brother is a psychotic killer._

_n. Course not, no one is good looking enough to match me. _*Sunstreaker.

_**Optimus and spark matters (pt 2)**_

The recharge warning displayed its message again, reinforcing how tired Optimus felt. Each surge attack had been brief but drained his system, undoing the reset the night before. No outside reaction of his problems showed as Ironhide and Ratchet had taken to monitoring him intently throughout the day. 'This meeting is classified with only a handful of humans. No visual recording but I know my team will not let an off switch stop them from hacking the security system and watching.' The humans were yelling at each other over budget figures, allowing him to sit quietly.

'After this meeting ends, I can slip away and recharge.' Blue optics blinked as his spark began surging. 'Not here, not now.' Optics closed, metal armored fingers tapping as though he was monitoring and listening at the same time. The internal pressure eased, allowing him to focus back on the meeting. It ended half an hour later, nothing really decided but frustrations aired and accepted. He strode out, barely civil in his goodbye's, wanting only his recharge berth.

:: Optimus, we have a situation. Twins pulled a prank:: Prowl

::Handle it Prowl. I'm turning command over to you for the next two joors:: Optimus

::Me? Why?:: Prowl

::You _are_ second in command. I have a matter to attend to. Comm me only if an emergency:: Optimus

::Yes sir. Report data pad will be on your desk shortly:: Prowl

Optimus vented thanks, that the mech was competent and willing to handle it. Stepping inside the main door, he almost went down as his spark surged brightly. Venting rapidly, he braced on the wall, pressing on his chest plates until it eased and subsided. His system flowed with energy and not pain, but the experience left him shaken. 'I must maintain the image of a leader, not a decrepit spark attack prone bot.' He straightened to his full height, steadying before continuing. The door to his private room slid open and he stopped, seeing Ironhide waiting there.

"Can I help you?" Optimus asked, wanting him gone and the recharge berth in the next room.

"Promise not to slag us," the black armored mech said.

"What?" His tired processor registered the meaning of the question as someone behind him stabbed through down into his protoform. Whirling, he slammed the mech back, recognizing last second it was Ratchet, his arm transformed into a needle injector. He pulled the force of the attack, then folded to the floor as the complex computer code injected reached every processor, effecting a forced recharge and weapons offlining.

"You could have let him get on the berth first," Ratchet grumbled, patting down a shoulder plate jarred loose with impacting the wall. "Now help me lift him up there."

Optimus approached the med bay bed, his optics shining for Elita and the two small bundles she held. Megatron touched his arm, congratulating him as Starscream and Ratchet exchanged high fives. Outside happy mech voices bartered back and forth, arguing about who really won the betting pool with twin mechs being sparked. He held out his hands, accepting the transferred bundles, feeling as though lip plates were going to split with the force of his grin. The black and white cubes that were his sparklings transformed. Optics widened as a little Jazz and Barricade were revealed.

_ARRRGGGHHHH!_

Optimus snapped wide awake, screaming as Ironhide grabbed him physically.

"Prime, snap out of it! You're safe. In med bay!" The warrior mech struggled with his leader, lifting off his feet pads.

"Barricade…"

"Barricade what?" Ironhide snarled, hating that Decepticon. Then again, he hated all Decepticons. "Ratchet's on his way back. Thinks he knows what the problem is." He felt Optimus' head plate, intending to link to check internal temperatures only to have his hand swatted away.

"I'm not a sparkling. Don't patronize me," he growled.

"Sneaking off to recharge in normal working hours, hiding spark surges and setting emergency relay alerts, now why would you need watching after?"

"We both know before you say anything." Ratchet interrupted as he strode through the med bay double doors. "Online exactly when I expected. You're experiencing a normal spark overload. Wheeljack intercepted a long distance space relay. Elita and two other femmes are inbound. Should make planet fall less than half an orn, about five earth days."

"My sparkmate is inbound?" He repeated, feeling the increase in his systems and spark.

"Before she arrives I need to check your spark spires. And you need to reassure Bumblebee, returned to base with Sam a little while ago. Monitoring your energy signature and knew the astro second you were tranked offline. And you better think of a way to explain him to Elita."

"I used only the matrix and my own spark coding," Optimus stated, already wondering what he was going to do.

"Like she will believe that one." Ironhide laughed. "You better spark merge with her, reminding what your coding feels like or she'll put you in med bay. That mate of yours is pure Primus fire."

_To be continued…_


	33. Chapter 33 Celebrations and Homecomings

Author's notes: Thanks for the reviews. FF net has been losing chapters to have them reappear to lose them again over the last week since Saturday 09/12/09. I waited several days for things to settle before trying to post. Please read any you had missed up to this point (ch 33) and review.

Rule 140 fulfills a reader request from long ago after an early chapter mentioned the horror movie Christine. Took me this long to fit it in. Laugh and enjoy. Poll showed readers wanted more Mikeala, Wheelie, Sam and Bumblebee so here they are. I tried to write Optimus and Elita but not everyone will be happy. Descriptions are my weakness and dialogue only covers so much. More coming. Onward to celebrations and homecomings.

TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR

_123. When a human asks how old you are, do NOT reply:_

_a. It's not the age, it is the mileage. _

_b. Not sure, your number system does not go up that high. Two past the computation of pi I believe. _

_c. I remember seeing this planet being formed when younger... _

_d. Why? The answer will make you feel like the mere blip in existence that your short pathetic life span is. _

_e. Three core processors, one spark casing spire reset and two memory upgrades. _

_f. Younger than Jetfire, older than Optimus and same as my spark mate Chromia. _*Ironhide

_g. We count experience not age for respect. How about you? Been to many other planets?_

_h. Fourth frame and a normal alt mode. You have an alt mode yet or still choosing a design? _

_i. I told you that yesterday and the day before that when you asked. Don't you remember? _

_j. I woke up on this side of the matrix so not old enough to offline yet. _

_k. Confidential information covered under treaty act 'do not harm humans for stupid questions.'_

_l. Mechs already know, femmes don't care and I drink high grade. What does that tell you?_

_m. Old enough to fight, create a sparkling or spark mate. And you human are so not my type even if you are over twenty one, interspecies prohibited and no, that is never what the holographic drivers are for. _

Prowl counter signed the log, feeling profoundly unhappy at the current security situation. Externally, he was calm and collected as ever. Nodding to various mechs and humans, he continued towards the runway to brief Silverbolt one more time.

'Optimus and Sam will be attending top secret government meetings,' He rehearsed mentally. 'No other bot or Transformer security measures allowed that they know of. Optimus carries quite a few hidden protections. Top secret or not Ironhide nearly spark busted when he found out. I agree going alone presents an unwise possibility for an attack. They are too valuable to risk. Optimus overrode me, logically I cannot protest. Mikeala Banes, important to Sam who is important to Bumblebee and Prime has been placed under our care. She wishes to prepare for Sam's spark day coinciding with their scheduled return. I concur. A purpose will keep her occupied and safe. Five days, what could happen?"

**Monday **

_127. Do not underestimate the human need for revenge, irregardless of the severity of end result of the original prank pulled on them. _*Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Bumblebee, Ratchet, Ironhide and any other bot who has targeted the humans.

Mikeala glared at the red twin, still smoldering over his comment the last time she had visited. Now everybot and soldier faced the airfield, watching Silverbolt in his Hercules jet mode leaving with Optimus and Sam for their meetings in Washington, D.C. If looks could kill, Sideswipe would have been offlined at her feet instead of standing among them. He had claimed it was a misunderstanding of words. One innocently repeated by those who heard it, human and mech. Now, she watched his transform, committing to memory what part of his bumper showed in both forms. 'You are due for a virus upgrade. I saw the medical duty roster. I have an upgrade for you.' Ratchet allowed her unlimited access to med bay, providing no seriously injured bots were inside. He was too afraid of stepping on her if things went critical.

That night, once Sideswipe was in stasis lock for the upgrade, she slipped in to med bay, placing a bumper sticker on. Sunstreaker had been next berth over, too tempting a target. The next morning, sipping her coffee while waiting for them all to arrive had been delightful. Bumblebee whistled queries at her twice, reading her amusement while they waited for the morning briefing to begin. Shrugging innocently while not telling him had been hard to do but Mikeala waited.

The twins strolled in, calling to the others in their own chattering language. Major Lennox pointed at their backsides, asking what Cybertron language glyphs were pasted on them. Sideswipe turned, allowing everyone to translate his first.

"_Forget the ammo, beware the car." _Sunstreaker read aloud then joined in the laughter. His twin glared then pointed, noticing a detail. "Hold still, I want to read yours."

"_Warning! Car only carries 250 kg of vanity_, is your bro!"

"Pit! I'm more the warrior!" Sunstreaker reached back, unable to grasp the edge of it, spinning in circles as he kept trying. Laughter only made him madder.

"I think it should stay," Mikeala said. "Words are words. And if it fits..." Two photos were snapped on her camera phone and uploaded to her laptop. Printed, they were added to the scrapbook, "Sam's super secret crazy alien family," then wrapped as the first present.

**Tuesday**

_128. Do not demonstrate to humans the right or wrong way to release any substance that is hazardous, dangerous or irritating in chemical, solid or mist form. _*Wheeljack

Mikeala pulled the needle and thread, swearing softly as it snagged on the remains of the original seam. "Ripped jacket Sam? More like shredded destroyed rag." She undid the snag, continuing to reattach the sleeve. "Why do you wear favorite one of a kind stuff into battles? Do you plan it? Least there were no shards on this one."

Repair work in the main hangar, from Grimlock's last rampage or play time as he called it, required them to relocate to the next hangar over. Warmer and brighter to her tastes, Mikeala sat on a chair to the side, quietly watching the soldiers and Autobots come and go. Until they had entered.

"This canister is inferior in strength." Wheeljack argued, holding the small metal cylinder in his large metal hand.

"Too strong and you can't use it. Right now," Major Will Lennox argued back, "We can slingshot it and it will break, releasing the tear gas. Or shoot it or throw a rock if needed. And it is designed for human use. That shape is enough to refill ten main units and covers city blocks by itself."

"It is weak." The white mech stated, his head side bars beginning to flash red among orange. "See?" He pinched it with one tap of his finger digit, crumpling it like paper. The force exploded out the tear gas. Gasping and crying, the men dashed for the door and fresh air. Mikeala never got the smell out of the jacket, dumping it in the hazardous bin. She bought a used one online through e-bay and sewed on the army ranger patch donated from Epps to match the previous one.

**Wednesday**

_129. Do not assume humans will move or acknowledge our presence. They are easily distracted from their surroundings to the point of serious injury or offlining by ways a sparkling would recognize as dangerous. _

She never had time to scream as the speeding truck filled her vision. A swish of air, pressure on her skin then a bright light flashed. "Mikeala?" a mechanical voice called her name softly. She opened her eyes, not remembering closing them. The blue metal face of Blurr looked down at her, warehouse walls all around them. "YouokayIcannottellonhumans? NeedRatchetoscanyou? Bebackatbasesuperquick. Nowanttofacehimwhenupsetifyou'rehurt."

"No, I'm okay," she breathed out, realizing he had saved her last second. The truck had come out of nowhere, barreling down the road as she had crossed in the crosswalk. Eyes down, fingers busy texting Sam about their weekend plans when a startled look up had confirmed the death inches away.

"What were you doing in town? I'm grateful, thank you Blurr." Mikeala closed her phone, slipping it back into a jacket pocket. Sweating, she undid her long brown hair, pulling it back into a ponytail and rewrapped it tight.

"Neededtotalktoyou. Samsparkdaycoming. HeardBumblebeegettingpresentneededyourimput. Followedyouandsawbadvehiclespeeding." He rattled out at his normal super speed.

It took a minute for her to slow down and decode what he had said. "I'll tell you what to get Sam if you swear on your spark to never tell anyone else or anybot about today. Agreed?"

**Thursday**

_130. Do not take human's reassurances they are alright when injured. They lack internal scanners and repair systems to self diagnosis injuries and medical conditions. Refer to Ratchet's human first aid and treatment modules as well as NEST medical guides. _

_131. Do not discuss sparking, spark making or sparklings with human females. It is a complicated subject with intense emotional connections for their species. _

"What are you doing?" The aide stared as she held the knife in one hand and the plastic package in the other. On the communications platform in the main hangar, she stood between him and the nearest stairs. The far stairs were still cordoned off pending final repairs to the structure.

"Getting this package open," she snarled, wrestling with it. "I want to wrap it. Sam will guess the present in this package, not a smaller one."

"Scissors are in the holder." Lennox pointed from his position on the main floor, noting how comfortable she was flipping the blade out and holding it.

"Already tried scissors, they bent." She stabbed the top, creating a slit. Two more stabs and the slit was now a slice. Pulling, the damaged plastic top broke off, leaving the rest sealed tight. More stabs attempts then a cry of pain and swearing. The knife clattered to the console as she held one hand inside the other. "$%^*& blade broke." She gasped out, blood seeping out between clenched fingers. Down below, Lennox pulled out his phone, speaking quietly into it.

"Don't touch me." She warned the aide, grabbing paper towels and wrapping them around her hand. Biting her lip, the wound continued to bleed as she felt lightheaded. Not even two minutes later, the Autobot size doors slid apart.

Ratchet stomped in, his green and yellow form heading directly for her. "I got three human calls, nine Autobot relays and nothing from you."

"I'm alright. Small cut. The bleeding will stop," she grumbled.

His wrist metal plate flipped open. Targeting sensors calculated her exact distance and weight then fired a single tranquilizer dart.

"Say goodnight Gracie," voice clip played from Bumblebee as the dart hit. Mikeala had three seconds to pull it out and glare at Ratchet before her world went dark.

"Mikeala Banes you are safe," Optimus deep voice greeted her wakening mind. "I apologize but it was necessary. Ratchet needed to scan you and your child."

"Child?" She echoed, sitting up, recognizing the Autobot med bay.

"You're pregnant," Ratchet said as she gasped, mind going every direction at once. Then the outer door to med bay slid open and another Ratchet stood there. His wrench hit the green and yellow medic standing by her. Optimus ran for the side room, disappearing from view.

"Hey! Do you know how hard it is repaint a nose dent? Golden yellow is pricey," the closer Ratchet whined in Sunstreaker's voice, his image shifting to yellow twin. Optimus leaned out around the doorjamb, shifting to the red Sideswipe.

The real Ratchet spoke. "Mikeala, your bio readings are high. Calm down, the wound is secure. You are in no danger of offlining. The blood loss was unacceptable but replenished from one of your own previous donations. I used our sealants not barbaric stitches, no scarring. What?" He leaned down towards her.

"Scan me. Am I pregnant?" She whispered, pale and uneasy.

"No, should you be?" He tilted his head sideways, running scans again.

"He said I was." She pointed at Sunstreaker, who was still rubbing his nose plate.

"Payback for the bumper stickers." He grinned then retreated from their glares. "Words for words. No harm done. Right?"

**Friday**

Optimus and Sam returned to NEST, glad to be among family. Four days of secret government meetings, treaty revisions and reviews left them both mentally and physically tired.

"You all right?' Sam greeted Mikeala with a hug and kiss.

"I'm around Autobots. What could happen? See," she twirled slowly in place, her favorite white dress moving with the motion. "Not a bump or scratch one. You worry too much mister die and come back on desert sands. We have a party to attend." Smirking, she handed him a small box wrapped with plain brown paper. "Happy birthday Sam. And you have to stop by the brig later. Twins have your present with them. The rest are with the bots over there by your spark day cake. So be nice."

"Mmmmmm, let me guess, blood, sweat and tears went into preparing?" He quipped.

"You have no idea," she answered.

_140. Do not fail to engage holographic drivers as needed. Humans are quick to believe the idea of a killer or possessed car when seeing us function on our own._

Bumblebee whistled cheerfully, closing the driver door as Sam patted his hood affectionately. "Thanks for dropping me off for lunch. Sure you'll be okay?"

"What? Think I'm going take his aft apart with a welding torch bright boy?" Wheelie snapped from the passenger seat. "Hey!" he complained as the glove box popped down, narrowly missing his optics. "I get the point." He folded his arms, lowering his extended optics.

Sam bit back his retort knowing Mikeala liked the former blue Decepticon however he clashed with him and his guardian. "See you shortie, err shortly." He said, walking towards the deli front door, never turning around. Windows darkened, hiding the inside. The engine revved, sounding like it was laughing before fading as he parked. The human went in the front door of the healthy eatery, across the counter area and out the far door. "This is more like it," he smiled, smelling the grease and onion scents of the nearby burger joint.

Bumblebee's inline system rang with a recorded message of a familiar voice. "I'm running late. Ratchet insisted on scanning me again but had to repair Bluestreak and Grimlock first after a prank with gopher clowns, feathers and army cots triggered too early. Grab Sam and rescue, uhm meet me please. Thanks guys. Mikeala out."

"You heard the warrior goddess yellow. Let's get the rug rat." Wheelie ordered, looking up and over the side through the car window glass. "I don't see him inside. You?"

A low moan noise emanated from the dash as scanners registered multiple heat signatures and heart beats, none belonging to Sam. Rolling forward, he expanded the search area. Sweeping right to left, looking for him and any sign of criminal or Decepticon activity.

"There he is! Over there next area!" Wheelie crowed. "He lied to you! Boy has potential yet." Sensors detected the welcome sound of his heartbeat, solid breathing and the ketchup staining his shirt. The engine of the Camaro growled before the car leaped ahead, speeding across the lot.

"Fooled you good!" Wheelie started when his seatbelt undid by itself, zipping back into its holder. Bumblebee jumped the cement barrier separating the two lots; the impact flipping Wheelie up against the interior car roof and over into the backseat. Sam spun at the human screams, looking up and around for Decepticons before seeing 'Bee in his car alt mode racing at him.

He knew his friend would never intentionally run him over but he crouched, screaming like a girl, just in case. The yellow Camaro locked its front brakes, sliding sideways as the door opened. Passive laser tractor beams reached out, scooping Sam like a fragile sparking, lifting and laying sideways. The car spun, revving out of the lot as the door slammed itself. Inside the restaurants people gasped as the driverless car jumped into traffic, nearly missing a crash before rounding the corner out of view.

"Did you see that? That car..." The redhead teen at the drive thru sputtered.

"Ate that dude! It is a killer possessed GMC!" His blonde haired, freckled co-worker finished.

"No wonder they almost went bankrupt. A foreign car would like eat another car, not a human."

Sam uncurled, realizing where he was. Grinning, he patted the dash. "Nice one 'Bee. Come in handy in an attack. You could have warned me."

"Deceivers must repent or risk losing what they hold dear!" A man's vocal clip played from a radio sermon.

"Don't worry, I promise to give up junk food. The day after I die." Sam promised.

The yellow Camaro whisked in and out of traffic, settling low on its wheels, the engine more sighing than running.

**Optimus and Elita-1 (pt 3)**

At Diego Garcia, Optimus read the twitter posts and resisted the urge to sigh. "Thank you Prowl for bringing this to my attention."

"Bright yellow Camaro with no driver and crazy antics. What was he using for processors?" His black and white officer said before turning to leave, door wings held halfway up and down. A sure sign of amusement and exasperation at the youngling.

"I hope Elita-1 will be a calming influence on Bumblebee. His antics are going to turn my protoform to silver yet." Optimus said. He checked the med bay records, looking for any improvement of Ironhide's condition.

::Checking every breem will not change the repair time:: Ratchet

::You have been wrong before:: Optimus

::Me? Thanks for the vote of confidence as the humans say. I'll remember that the next time your pieces are scattered from playing with Megatron and Starscream. I'm sure Wheeljack or the twins will do a fine job on repairs. What doesn't blow up later that is.:: Ratchet

:: You kicked me out of med bay:: Optimus

::I kicked you out to concentrate. It is a minor procedure in a delicate place under his spark chamber. You can wait. What is the urgency?:: Ratchet

::Backup for an unknown location to meet three femmes in unknown operating condition. It is advisable I take a weapons specialist and medic along:: Optimus sent, trying to muster a dignified command tone.

::You want him as backup when you meet and explain to Elita-1. And me after you have:: Ratchet

Forty hours later, they watched the comet carriers crash into the fields. Optimus transformed into his red and blue flame Peterbilt semi alt mode, his spark chamber beating with energy. 'The closer one. It's her. I feel her presence.' He revved over the field, axles bouncing over the rows of pumpkins. Transforming to his true bi pedal form, he watched anxiously as the outer shell plating spun, rising and releasing pressure. The wind whistled, pulling steam away. Slowly, she unfolded her protoform within its center, rising to one knee plate then uncurling into a half stance. He bounded down the coarse torn-up earth, shaking the area with his impact.

"Elita!" He yelled joyfully, reaching for her with arms and mating bond. She half fell into his grasp, reaching hesitantly back, weak with jumbled echoes.

::Ratchet!:: He screamed over the medical alert frequency.

::Get her up here:: Ratchet sent, transforming his right hand into a needle injector. He balanced on the crater edge, indicating a larger flat area ::Energon depravation. I brought extra. And calm down! You're a Prime not a youngling::

The upsurge injection took less than a breem to strengthen her. Their sparks had flared high while touching. "Until you can properly spark merge, stay apart. Elita needs two more injections then I might clear her for being with you." Ratchet instructed.

Silverbolt was called for transport back to base. Optimus had left his silver trailer at Diego Garcia and refused to wait to have it brought and her shipped back like cargo. Ironhide stood with Moonracer and Firestar, their high pitched language barely heard. Ratchet was monitoring the femmes, leaving Elita and her mate to talk.

"Is Ironhide still the planet blowing mech he was?" Elita asked.

"Worse and better. He and Chromia are working towards a sparkling." Optimus smirked, wanting to grab her close and daring not.

"Them?" her jaw plates dropped in shock. Her dark blue protoform barely reflected the moonlight as she shook her head in disbelief. "What next, you want one?"

"I would welcome another sparkling. " He said, intently monitoring the incoming update from Silverbolt and relays from Diego Garcia as well as overhead satellite relay images least local humans or Decepticons sneak up on them.

"Another?" she froze, her processors running that one word over and over.

Optimus spun, sensors blaring warnings as they registered a Cybertronian targeting system locked onto his signal. Weapons charged, battle computers came online and his optics flared looking for the source when there was a quiet 'click' sound behind him. Elita stood there, holding a large pulsar gun.

'My old gun? Readings confirm the distinctive pulse signal. Oh frag." The smaller rifle he had carried before the last power upgrade. One of a handful capable of penetrating the armor both he and Megatron carried on their frames. Armor required for desperate, all out battling yet susceptible to a charge built around their spark frequencies. 'All our weapons have safety programs to prevent friendly fire. She would have to manually override it.' Flashed through his main processor in an astro second.

::Prime, don't move. No safeties are engaged. She's in my sights:: Ironhide

::Leave her to me!:: Optimus sent then raised his hands slowly, making no movement towards his own weapons.

"Another?" Elita hissed. "Who was she? I will hunt her down and use that pit spawned chassis for bridge rails."

"There was no femme or mech. I used only the matrix. See?" He offered his wrist, connection cables extending out.

"I want the truth. I waited for orns, hiding to avoid torture and offlining to protect you, a Prime and you betray me?" The rifle hummed, full charge aimed at his center chest plating.

"I did not with any femme. Ask Ratchet or Ironhide. See for yourself. You are all I have and all I want." He attempted to reason, holding the cables out to her.

"I'm asking you. One last time. WHO. WAS. SHE?"

_To be continued…_


	34. Chapter 34 Rolling forward

Author's Notes: Thank you for the reviews and reader comments on Optimus and Elita, worked a few of them in here. A link to a picture of them together is in my profile for those who don't recognize what she looks like. And thanks to ladyofdarkstar for the idea about Wheeljack and the DeLorean. The rules now exist to almost 200 here and there. (Prowl's version is longer than the posted version – include in progress and ones yet to be revealed) 3 separate documents to contain them all.

::Do you know how long that takes to search for duplication?!:: Layra

::Quit whining human:: Ironhide

:: Upgrade your memory processor next time:: Prowl

::Worse, I get distracted reading and oh shiny! Look at that…what was I doing again?:: Layra

Anyways, the next story arcs should be on femme / creator of two other Autobot's then what would you like to read? New sparklings for Autobot pairs ? Problems with spark bonds? Team problems getting along with Autobots or with humans? More general pranks and twin trouble ? New arrivals not in the movies ? There are good to downright spectacular fics out there that cover those themes. Not sure what I could add to them. Let me know though. Maybe Decepticon or human hi jinks or keep writing and be surprised ? Rolling forward until all are one, Layra and Prowl.

OP & E1 OP & E1 OP & E1 OP & E1 OP & E1 OP & E1

Prowl checked communications relays again, wondering how long it took the team to locate the three femmes. "Find them, verify medical condition and return to base." He paced across the hangar weighing if the situation required additional warrior support or required hacking into overhead earth satellite systems to monitor remotely. " Did they stop for energon drinks on the way?" Humans watched him pace, talking quietly among themselves. He listened in covertly, pleased they were excited about the new arrivals.

_107. When a human asks 'how long are you staying?' do not answer:_

_a. Thirty days past the last eviction notice. _

_b. When the United States budget deficit is erased and government spending is controlled. _

_c. As soon as I finish downloading everything intelligent and beautiful off the internet in art, music and literature. BEEP! Done already? That was fast. _

_d. When Cybertron's third moon crosses in planetary alignment with the second and aligns with Ursa Major. Missed it last time, was in the brig. Some bots have no sense of humor. _

_e. Until our sparkling is in their second frame. Oops! Did I say that? I want the sparkling to be a surprise tomorrow for my mech. *taps chest plates while smiling* _*Nice try but not giving it away here either

_f. When I find a femme as good looking as I am. _*Sunstreaker

_g. Waiting for my high-grade flavor of the vorn club to finish out. _

_h. Why? You don't really believe anything is going to happen in 2012 and want a lift off world?_

_i. When my femme arrives and we sparkmate and live happily ever after._

_j. Until the Harry Potter series is finished and on DVD so I can take it anywhere in the galaxy with me_. *Optimus Prime

_k. When I have figured out the female of your species. _

_l. Long as command doesn't find out about today's prank or yesterday's or the day before that or the three last week or the nineteen last month _*Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Mudflap and Skids.

_m. When they put white cinder blocks under me because the repair budget is used up. _

_n. Until my brother is no longer Prime then I am out of here. I am just a soldier and they are not sticking me with that job! _*Ultra Magnus

"Any word yet?" Major Lennox asked for the tenth time. The communications officer on the rolling platform gestured towards the blank screen. "Can we link into the satellites?"

"Russia and North Korea own those satellites." Sergeant Epps pointed out. "Think if we ask nice they will let us borrow them?"

"Who said anything about asking?" Lennox smirked.

"The treaties we have with those nations through the UN and they don't like us?" Epps answered.

_132. Do not get upset when a human makes a commitment and breaks it. They are a young species that believes in untruths, unfulfilled agreements and broken promises. That does not excuse us from keeping our side._

Samuel James Witwicky waited in the food line at Diego Garcia, wondering how his roommate would feel about the buffet laid out across the tables. Celebrating misc birthdays, they were in a spare hangar to share the fun with the Transformers. "Leo joked about army food. Helps when an alien runs your food budget" He commented appreciatively.

"Nothing like a good last meal," the soldier in front of him joked.

The young man felt the reality of the NEST base hammered home. They were soldiers who lived ready for combat, fighting a war brought to their world by aliens and he, and an untrained civilian had been in the middle of it all twice. Sam sighed, closing his eyes, remembering what Will had told him right after mission city. "Three things you need to hear kid. One – You did what you had to do. Two – A lot of people are safe because of what you did. Three – I'm proud of you and so is Optimus."

"I don't feel like a hero. I mean, saving the world? That is so big, my mind fails to grasp it." The teen muttered, hiding his head in his hands. Scratched, dirty and clothes torn he looked like he had been chased, blown off a building and nearly crushed underneath giant robots. His brown hair was layered with grit and debris.

"Sam, look at this." He waited until he had the boy's attention, green eyes focusing on the color photograph. " Picture of my daughter Annabelle. I don't fight for the world, or for millions of people or the grand idea of honor or courage. I fight for her. One little girl too young to walk or know what war is. You focus on your family, that crazy hot girlfriend of yours or your car which is an alien robot, who knew? You fought for them. The rest of the world will never know. That is how you keep going and stay sane." He switched back to present day, waiting for his turn at the food.

"Bumblebee knew me less than a week and would have grieved for centuries if I had died by Megatron. Four years later he is still my guardian and so much more. I go to college and was rude, calling him my first car. He'd die for me in an instant. Optimus already did. How do I return that type of commitment? I'm human so how do I make 'Bee understand I feel the same way about him?" He listened to the soldiers standing ahead of him in line, joking about sex and winced.

'How without seeming like a human with perverted thoughts? I love you seems kind of weird from a guy to a guy robot.' He shuddered, remembering an obscene sketch Leo had found on the net about humans and robots. 'So not going there Sam. Girls are easier to deal with. Send flowers, a card and take them to dinner. Listen to them and nod occasionally. Nice shoes and your hair looks beautiful.'

He reached for the potato chips then stopped. His hand hesitated over the super size double thick cheddar and bacon flavored chips before moving to the baked multi grain small bag. Double shot energy drink laced with sugar and caffeine was replaced with plain water. The three mayonnaise packets were put back, replaced with one mustard packet. The sandwich was assembled, half the size of the one normally ate.

"Doesn't taste half bad. Never noticed how spicy the pepper jack cheese was. One slice instead of four and still flavorful." A couple of bites later and Bumblebee strode in the hangar, door wings flaring up higher when spotting his human charge. He approached, looking at the food then softly shrilled. Sam felt the tingle of a body scan and grinned back.

"I feel fine 'Bee. Nothing wrong. Cutting back on sugar." He took another bite of the sandwich, the tingling sensation stronger. "Quit scanning," he mumbled around the mouthful then swallowed. "I agreed to eat healthier remember? What?" Bumblebee leaned in close, optics widening, before rising back up and turning towards the east wall. The yellow mech nodded, responding to a distant signal Sam could not hear. Shrugging, he continued to eat until Ratchet strode into the hangar, moving to confer with Bumblebee.

"Hey!" Sam yelped as the tingling sensation rippled across his skin. Both mechs gazed his direction, their body posture tight.

::I detect no abnormalities either in his mind or body:: Ratchet

::He is eating healthy without me interfering and enjoying it:: Bumblebee

::May be a deeper processing error. Wait until he finishes then bring him to med bay. I will do a thorough scan down to the molecular level without alerting the other humans to a possible condition. We must protect and care for Sam and their methods are crude and ineffective, often causing more harm:: Ratchet instructed before turning and leaving.

Sam finished the food, dumping the tray, deliberately avoiding the dessert table. "Hey buddy, want to go to the beach? Walk around, watch the sunset?" The bot nodded, giving a very human thumbs up gesture then pretended to hold a joystick, shooting at imaginary targets. "No, no games tonight. Maybe a drive in-movie? Drive around and show me more of your ninja moves? Fresh air and all that? Hey!" Bumblebee darted forward, grasping him in both hands and lifting him up against his chest plates. "A simple yes would do." The boy laughed, patting the metal fingers. "The base gates are the other way, where are you going?"

::We're on our way. Sam is showing more abnormality to his behavior:: Bumblebee

::Ready and waiting:: Ratchet.

_138. Do not enter human contests using our advanced technology, skills and methods to win. _*Optimus Prime, Wheeljack, twins, and Hound.

Jazz's near obsession with human music of all types was generally known but not mentioned in any report as Ratchet's liking of daytime soap operas or Wheeljack and the movie series featuring a DeLorean and time travel. Major Lennox figured there were worse and more dangerous aspects of human culture they could have chosen.

Optimus liking for the wizard series still baffled him the most. His daughter had only given it a passing glance, more interested in the horse farm series for her age. Then the local radio station had started a contest on movie trivia. Questions were given out hourly with each day ending its own contest to be mailed in for the winner to be selected randomly.

"Think we might participate?" Sergeant Epps had asked.

"Can we keep confidentiality? Blowing cover of a multimillion super secret alien base of operations for a few autographs or promo items would not sit well with the Pentagon." Army intelligence was conferred with, regulations checked and the matter discussed with Autobot command as they had the most to lose if the public discovered their existence. No one really expected the base personnel to win any of the month long events.

Wheeljack won the science movie category, Optimus the boy wizard trivia series two days in a row, and Sunstreaker won the romance theme. Each used the human name alias for their hologram to enter. Then the prizes arrived, including the second place grand prize for Optimus drawn at random. The envelopes were opened and read to the waiting crowd in the main hangar.

"Year's supply to Lusting Hearts Magazine," Sunstreaker read then grimaced as the other bots chirped their comments and suggestions in their native language. The card was crushed between yellow metal digits and thrown into the recycling bin. It was retrieved by humans later that night.

"Fifteen free DVD's of your choice from online video store." Wheeljack read, his side plates flashing blue and green with happiness.

Optimus opened his first one, "Autographed copy by the author and cover art designer of the first two books. They will be treasured." The second envelope was opened and he blinked blue optics, narrowing in on the words.

"What?" Lennox asked."Is there a problem?"

"Second place grand winner. One year free supply of gasoline. I wanted the trip to Disneyland."

**Optimus and Elita-1 (pt 4)**

The standoff between Optimus and Elita1 continued. The femmes and mechs watched, worried Elita might actually shoot her sparkmate. The pulse rifle she held was his previous model, designed for use against Megatron, therefore capable of hurting him.

::Think we should take cover? They might miss:: Moonracer looked around, seeing nothing but flat pumpkin fields under the moonlight.

::Nah, only thing we are missing is popcorn: Ironhide sent, ignoring Ratchet's exasperated vent.

::What is popcorn?:: Moonracer

"THERE WAS NO FEMME" Optimus matched her angry tone volume for volume.

"The matrix sparked it' is a story younglings tell, not spark mates! Last time or I fire, who WAS SHE?" Elita hissed, eyes steadily turning red. He never moved, never reached for his weapons or tried moving out of range.

"NO FEMME! I'M TELLING THE TRUTH!" He yelled at full vocal volume, sure the entire countryside heard his frustration. Reassurance, love and a plea for understanding poured out across his side of the mating bond. The connection cables on his wrist wavered in the wind, offering another proof.

The pink and white femme moved one step closer, metal finger moving the trigger fractionally closer to triggering the charge.

"Then fire. You can get the answer from my processor directly once I'm offlined." Optimus finally said, lowering his hands. Vents from the others echoed their surprise but they held their positions. No bot moved while her rifle wavered then slowly lowered.

"I hate you," she snarled. Their mate bond narrowed tightly, barely existing but there.

He nodded without a word. As a Prime, he had made hard decisions, seen the results. Mechs frustrated, enraged, broken for a time and taking their frustrations out on him. Some verbally, other physically and he had let them vent knowing the minor physical damage could be repaired. Only Ironhide and a handful of other warriors were capable of real damage and their breakdowns required a medic, not a commander. "Even Bumblebee lost it once after a battle, kicking and hitting me in the shin plate several times." He half smiled, reminiscing. 'Which brings me back to the current problem.' he thought sobering quickly.

Elita still glared, the rifle lowered but charged. Her optics returned to a faint blue. He started to move forward and the rifle rose. 'Impasse,' he noted. 'For her, I will wait as long as it takes.'

::Can we trank her?:: Optimus

::Not in her weakened condition. She has safeguards to prevent capture that way. Take a powerful systems offlining. Safety programming I gave her before we left Cybertron:: Ratchet sent, sheepish in his tone.

'Getting her back to base is not going to be easy.' Optimus realized. An internal comm signal interrupted his processing.

:: Prime, I am inbound to your location. ETA under 5 minutes:: Bumblebee

::What? Where?:: Optimus sent, trying to frantically calculate how the situation was about to change. Should he order the scout away, hurting him and delaying their meeting as a unit or allow the scout to approach but keep a distance or let them meet while she was armed but weakened? 'Battle is easier. Point and shoot. This makes my processor hurt,' he rubbed his front head plate, realizing he needed one more piece of information.

::Why?:: Optimus

::My spark hurts. And I want to see her. She is your mate, my adopted mom to be as the humans say:: Bumblebee

Exactly the time predicted, the yellow and black Camaro bounced into view across the fields. Transforming, he stood up slowly, shaking a crushed pumpkin off his right foot. One metal hand waved in greeting then stopped as the rifle pointed his direction. He whistled, tucking his hands behind his back as his door wings dropped.

"What is your name?" Elita challenged, glancing down at him. Her spark beat rapidly even as her maternal instinct roused. 'Is it his small size? There are no younglings left. Megatron saw to that. Why doesn't he answer?'

"His name is Bumblebee." Optimus began when she snapped at him.

"He can talk can't he?" The yellow mech dropped his head, one foot scuffing in the dirt before moving his head side to side.

"His vocal unit was ripped out by Megatron during interrogation and torture. Contact with the Allspark restored it temporarily but there is no permanent fix. Internal comms only. And your frequency is not one he would know yet." Ratchet explained. Her femme instinct kicked up another notch, moving her forward two more steps without realizing it.

'Torture by Megatron and he lives? Oh, the poor little mech.' She thought, subspacing the rifle back to its hiding space.

"And swinging your head side to side means no while up and down means yes. You'll need to upload files on body movement and language before too long." Ratchet's unspoken, 'if you are staying,' was felt.

Bumblebee looked up sideways, his faceplates betraying no emotion. Unlike Optimus, his lower face and mouth was a single circular speaker. 'And odd replacement,' she noted then her spark sunk as she realized why. No vocalizer meant his lower face and part of his support neck column had been ripped out to reach it directly. She closed her optics, imagining the bright cheerful spark she felt enduring that pain and existing half repaired afterwards.

"Wait, I feel his spark? He is the sparkling that Optimus?! That fragger!" The little mech stepped back, one hand going to his chest plates at the same instant Optimus touched his, facing the other direction. 'He feels our mate bond?' her processors froze for a nano second. 'Not possible,' medical logs repeated. Only a sparkling felt mate bonds of creators, mech and femme. An unbonded pair only were felt it both parts were creators.

'Optimus was telling the truth. There was no other femme.' Her processors churned. "'Lita, you are my spark's desire. Being Prime means duty comes first even over our spark bond, Megatron will hunt you down because of me, we are losing the war, Iacon is falling to Decepticons, I'm sending the Allspark away and our race might be dying.' He told me those clear enough. He couldn't have added 'and I have a sparkling?"

She glared, feeling hurt and betrayed, letting the pain drift across their bond. Her mate winced, feeling his spark pulse while sending a request for forgiveness and love from his bond half. A second smaller signal intruded, almost desperate in its sending of love and need for reassurance. Bumblebee made a pleading hum, hand out stretched towards her while the other pressed on chest plates above his spark.

'My stubbornness is hurting the youngling?' It was too much. Pink armored arms swung open, as she slowly nodded her head up and down. He whistled once, hesitating then tackled her, wrapping arms around her legs. Time stopped as the instinctive femme bond surged to the front for the youngling. Emotions flowed between them, healing and bringing their frequencies closer. Then another pair of arms overlapped hers, an unfamiliar pattern of red and blue flames on heavy grade armor. The third frequency hummed, sharing and healing with theirs.

::Ahem, our ride is here:: Ratchet

She flipped her optics open, slowly releasing the bot in her arms. Moving away, Bumblebee hummed, wiping at messy optics. Optimus vented softly then yelped, hopping away on one foot. Elita hissed, "You're forgiven not forgotten Prime."

::What happened?:: Ratchet

::Low level breaker surge. Fried my foot connections and back surged up to my middle. Ow! Ow! Ow! :: Optimus moaned, his foot charred. Bumblebee retreated to behind Ironhide. Silverbolt hovered, dropping down to land in his Hercules jet mode.

"Living among fleshlings should be an adventure." Moonracer commented, transforming into her ground cover mode.

"I'm more interested in the mechs." Firestar transformed into her carrier mode, gliding up the ramp. Ironhide and Ratchet followed in their alt modes. Bumblebee gestured for Elita to go ahead of him.

"I want my own recharge berth for several orns." She stated calmly before ducking down and folding into a sitting position inside of Silverbolt's back transport area. He transformed back into the Camaro alt mode, rolling up and into place next to her. She wrapped one arm around him. Optimus transformed, his injured foot still numb and not transforming properly. The panels stuck out oddly, eliciting snickers from the others.

::Why didn't you run?:: Silverbolt

::I'd only have died tired. She would never have quit:: Optimus

_To be continued…_


	35. Chapter 35 Things to understand and keep

Wow! Thank you for the fantastic response to the Optimus and Elita1 story arc. Last piece (for now) is below. Yes, the mechs are kinda bad boys in this one but fits their characters. I type her name as Elita without the 1 since I don't know of an Elita2 or Elita3 and is easier to type and read that way.

The section following Rule 114 are the bots talking among themselves in response to the comments and activities going on in the human meeting. The humans can _hear but not see_ the Transformers so they are using internal comms to joke among themselves. The humans hear none of what they are sending. Prowl was nice enough to provide a transcript for us to enjoy.

More Sam and Bumblebee without too much humor. More bonding between them as friends and two males. Seemed appropriate somehow. Megatron and Optimus are brothers by their mech Alpha Trion and femme creator being the same two. Ultra Magnus had a different mech but was sparked the same day and time so is a Cybertron version of brother. Onward to realizing what is important and ignoring what is not.

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_114. When a human says do you want to attend the meeting do not answer:_

_a. Slag no! What did I say that sounded like torture me for four hours? _

_b. Sure. I could use the downtime to check my e-mail and chat on IM._

_c. Can I read the important parts later on twitter?_

_d. You talk, I pretend to listen then on the battlefield you scream and I still ignore you._

_e. Sorry, my security clearance doesn't include super level boring._

_f. No, I don't WANT to but do I have to?_

_g. I said I had insomnia, not the wish to offline by boredom._

_h. Let me rip out my processors, deactivate my memory files and I should be ready._

_i. See these cannons? Do they look meeting friendly? _*Ironhide

_j. Grounded by my femme, if you can convince her to let me attend?_

_k. And miss my afternoon soap operas?_

_l. Going to save the world, send me the meeting minutes later please._

_m. Have to go to the brig. Why? Oh, so you haven't seen Flareup's new transform we gave her? How many bright green teardrop camping trailers are there on base?_

_n. Listening to a bunch of clueless humans is so how I want to spend my time between battles._

_o. It's scheduled the same slot as anger management therapy. Which do you think I should attend fleshling?_

_p. Repeat "why?" until the human leaves._

_q. Sam and Mikeala need me. What for? *thinks* Help them break the big news to his parental units. What news? Need to know basis. _*Bumblebee via texting

_r. Need to polish my armor. Appearance is important when saving your aft from big bad Decepticons. *_Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.

_s. You must be a pit spawned servant to ask me a question like that. _

_t. And they say fleshlings have no sense of humor . Rhetorical question right?_

The four Autobots interlinked and waited for the human military and their civilian counterparts to join the video conference. Their screen displayed only the red Autobot logo, the microphone muted as a safety. No other beings were in the hangar but them. Hurricane Inuk had brushed their island the day before, leaving wide spread damage. The occasional dripping of water into a bucket from a roof leak was a gentle reminder of a terrible fury.

::Is this really necessary?:: Magnus asked, tapping the edge of the walkway platform with a blue armored finger digit.

::Not worth a glitch mouse's tail if you ask me:: Ironhide grumbled.

::You got a better way to spend the afternoon? Besides blowing debris up? Blowing more up, then looking for anything missed?:: Ratchet

::I never miss:: The weapons specialist grumbled, raising his arm cannon threateningly towards the medic.

A human computer technician appeared on the screen, nervously coughing. "Almost ready. Couple of outer sites are having technical difficulties, please stand by."

::As opposed to hanging from the ceiling:: Ratchet

:: Technical for clueless human. Our idea of difficulty is a cannon jamming or the target moving too fast:: Ironhide

::Wasn't my job. Ask the next being in the command chain:: Optimus added, winking an optic at Magnus. He pretended to be stabbed above his spark, then flung an imaginary missile back. It was ducked and they jabbed at each other with air swords.

:Reminds me, Annabelle needs a babysitter this weekend:: Ironhide rubbed his chin plates thoughtfully.

The General tapped the podium mike, creating feedback and getting everyone's attention. "We're ready to begin. Roll call please." Various names were called out to a variety of 'yes sir', 'present' or 'hear.' One name caught the bot's attention.

"Where is advisor E.R. Kingston?"

::Beating his head on the wall. Be back soon:: Magnus

"Out sick. Be back first of the week." His human assistant reported to those assembled in the conference room.

::Missed the latest intelligence patch:: Magnus

::Unable to upgrade personality core:: Ratchet

::Processor wired backwards still. That human consistently demands access to our weaponry, treaty or not:: Optimus

Roll call was completed and the opening procedures followed. "First up, Congressmen Thompson and Knight."

::Fill in the blank. I'm a human who is ____ and _____ but got elected anyway::Ironhide

They droned on for several minutes without really getting anywhere until they began quoting budget amounts.

"What page is that?" Senator McKenzie asked, flipping through his papers.

::Coloring book 4, page showing the little car _after_ the big truck ran it over:: Optimus snickered.

The bickering began, lasting over three hours. The presiding General finally stood up, rapping for attention. "My staff will pick our next time and location and notify by e-mail and memo."

:Can we send a copy to the Decepticons?:: Ironhide

:Why?:: Magnus

::Provide some excitement:: Ironhide ::Or kill their processors off::

"How many items are left on the main agenda?" He asked the minute's taker.

::Translated: When is lunch? I'm hungry and bored:: Optimus

::Translated, I have a femme waiting:: Ironhide sent then looked away at their glares. ::Probable guess based on human politician behavior and scandals::

Magnus rolled his optics up, not comfortable with the idea of spark mates and sparklings and human interactions did not bear thinking of. One search through the internet almost had him flying back off planet. He switched frequencies to Prime's alone. ::Fifty credits say he has a sparkling within the next vorn. Unless you have plans to spark first?:: Magnus

::Not open to discussion Commander:: Optimus narrowed his optics, folding his arms while taking an aggressive stance, looking pointedly the other direction.

::Just curious:: Magnus backed up one step, both hands up showing peaceful surrender. He glanced at Ratchet then nodded over at his brother. The medic shook his head a faint no motion then gestured at the charred plating on the large mech's foot. Magnus frowned, wondering if and how much should he get involved. 'Last thing we need is a distracted Prime in battle. And I thought him being loopy when first bonding with Elita was bad.'

The humans concluded their meeting, forwarding two topics to the next one. Neither the military nor the Transformers realized the final item concerned them. Pending a confirmation, the automated launchers were put on stand-by. The weapons designer, working on a private contract payroll, had everything to lose if the design was rejected. He borrowed the approved stamp and had them shipped to Diego Garcia, care of Major Will Lennox.

_133. Do not assume low level human technology, their lack of experience as a race, or fragile biological nature makes them less of a threat than the Decepticons. _

_135. Do not assume one time of telling a human 'no' is sufficient denial. It may take a negative response in a variety of forms for them to understand the concept of not getting their way._

" I don't believe this!" Lennox yelled. "Are you serious? Automated sabot launchers that have to be stationary? And turned on an hour ahead of time to warm up? Who thought this piece of garbage up?"

"The best minds at the Pentagon think tanks."The man stated, straightening his horned rim glasses.

"They won't last five minutes in the field against the 'Cons."

"They're for our protection. In case our friendly assets get other ideas." He smiled then gasped as two hands grabbed his brown polyester shirt, lifting and pinning him against the truck side.

"Not in my lifetime." The major said, his tone flat and deadly. His eyes bore into the official. "Not approved by me, not wanted and never going to happen." He let loose of the man, stepping back. "Get these off my base or I will have them removed. In pieces if necessary." He watched as the truck was driven back off base.

That evening, four trucks of fresh food supplies trundled onto base. Three split off towards the kitchens, one towards cold storage. It never made it there. Two automated sabot launchers were unloaded onto wheeled carts then covered with tarps. Security changed shifts and the additions were logged and noted. Copies were made of the official's papers and ID badge then forgotten as they had been properly approved before his arrival and everything seemed in order. The launchers were activated, keyed to identify any unknown Transformer signals and in the presence of weapons activation, engage targeting locks. "My state of the art targeting systems, copied from NBE-1. Not that anyone else needs to know that," the designer whispered, patting the device before disappearing into the night and off base.

_136. Do not discuss personal Cybertron relationships and past experiences with the humans. Their curiosity is endless and even a simple remark may be taken as perverted or inviting. No living bot would mate with them. They may try with us._

Sam stepped out of the shower, rubbing at the small shiny patch still on his left shoulder blade. "Probably never come off. But if it reassures them," he mumbled trying to detect the mini sensor he knew was implanted under the bone. Everything felt normal in his body. Twenty minutes later, he bounded down the stairs and out the back door.

"Bee, ready to roll?" He greeted the yellow and black Camaro. "What, no scan? I am touched. Wait, I'm not," he teased. Waking up in med bay, with Bumblebee anxiously holding him no longer seemed distressing. Finding out the designed, built and injected implant under the bone without anyone asking first was a minor grievance.

Until Ratchet pointed out what he had never realized. "How did you think we found you when Megatron kidnapped you? Before the Egypt fight over the sun reaper? Optimus homed in on the tracker even as you fled the campus. One of his own spark spires provided the base unit. No metal on earth is that strong or durable."

The passenger door popped open as "Gentlemen, start your engines," sound clip played. Sam patted the simulated leather seat before hopping in. "Pick up Mikeala at her apartment then a quiet afternoon lunch at the lookout. Got to love summer break and the parents away." His phone rang, "beautiful lady" showed the caller id.

"Sam?" her voice echoed from the cell phone.

"You have any other boyfriend named Sam?" He asked, pretending to sound hurt.

"Boyfriends yes, Sam no. Only one dork with that name." Her tone was light and teasing.

"But I'm your dork and I love you." he said, knowing the effect that phrase had on her. "Ready for lunch out?"

"Not today. Dad has a parole hearing. Tomorrow we have a date. Or did you forget?"

"No," he stalled. "What? Me forget? Humph. No, wondering if you wanted to go out both days but hey, I understand. No problem," he said before the call ended. Bumblebee crooned softly, revving his engine a little.

_*Looks like it is you and me* yellow prime _texted onto his phone. The drive to the lookout in the fall weather was enjoyable if windy and uneventful. They watched falling multi-colored leaves while waiting for the other vehicle to leave. That couple ignored them, bickering about money problems as they left. Bumblebee transformed into his bi-pedal mode, stretching up straight before sitting on the grass. Sam leaned against his leg, staring off into the distance. His heartbeat and pulse quickened as the Autobot monitored his vitals.

*_What is it? What disturbs you?* _texted onto the phone.

"Not disturbs," he corrected, holding the phone in his hand. "Can I ask you something personal? Really personal? Moreover, tell me if I am out of line here. Nevertheless, I need to know. Man to bot kind of thing." He stopped as the mech put a metal finger in front of his face, moving it back and forth.

*_What do you need to know?* _

Once up and down for yes, side to side for no. Simple right?" Sam asked then grinned as he moved up and down rapidly, imitating a bobble head doll. "You are fully mature right? Like able to mate by choice? Controlling what you do?" Optics widened as he nodded yes. The bot wolf whistled then ducked his head in embarrassment.

'Where is he going with this conversation?' Bumblebee wondered.

"I know there are limited femmes compared to mechs. But you don't have to have a spark mate to uh, you know." He lamely finished, blushing scarlet. He got a soft yes movement in reply. "Have you ever considered a relationship that was, unusual? I mean some humans take multiple partners over a lifetime, sometimes having kids or relationships that only work for a short time. To explore and learn."

'He's not asking what I think he is?' Processors spun as his energon chamber churned lightly.

"Would you consider, for me?" he hesitated, trying to find the right words as the yellow mech froze. "Pursuing a femme of your race? Having a sparkling without a spark bond? What?"

Bumblebee burst out laughing, rolling onto his back and kicking his feet in the air delightedly. 'He's worried about me having a sparkling of my own?' his thoughts danced with merriment.

"Wasn't that funny. I have Mikeala. So what if there are too few femmes? No reason you cannot have a family with us. You live for nearly forever, we don't." He smiled as gentle metal hands picked him up and against warm chest plates. A soft tingle brushed across his skin. "Not the scanning again. Wanting you happy is not insanity."

*Was afraid you were going to ask something else* texted in.

"Like what? How many femmes you dated or mated with? No way, that's your business not mine!" Sam laughed then roared as optics snapped shut and the metal below him heated. "You're blushing! Over ten thousand years old," he gasped out between guffaws, falling off onto the grass. "And embarrassed!"

*Waiting for my one femme to mate with* texted in. *All I have known is war and fighting for our planet's survival. Hard to be romantic when you are the youngest and on the run or recovering from bad injuries*

Sam sobered quickly, "Ouch, good point." He wiped tears from his face, sitting up slowly. "Optimus made you with only the matrix. Think you could borrow it?" The sudden vent of shock was answer enough. "Hey, I carried it for awhile. Energy source not mystical super power. Relax, let's go. Mom will call the house and be worried if I'm not there." The yellow bot transformed into the Camaro alt mode and opened the passenger door.

"Awaiting Captain's orders," clip played. They headed back to Tranquility and the Witwicky house.

::Sam is functional? Sensor logs indicate variable bio readings:: Ratchet

::Asking me about femmes and sparklings:: Bumblebee

:What did you tell him?:: Ratchet

::Nothing. I have never been with a femme. Can I borrow the matrix to create a sparkling?:: Bumblebee asked, laughing internally as only shocked sputtering was the medic's answer. ' Two for the youngest bot. Zero for the medic. Wait until I tell Ironhide.'

**Optimus and Elita, Ironhide & Chromia ( pt 5)**

The hallway of the Autobots personal quarters were deserted at that time of day except for a pink and white bot standing next to a purple and white smaller bot. The femmes slid the door open slowly verifying the room was empty, safe to enter and nothing blocked their escape route should it be needed. The room was pale concrete and square, the only convenience a recharge bed nearly the proper height to swing onto easily.

"Looks like a cell. Sure the brig wouldn't be more comfortable?" Chromia teased her former commander.

"Beats that psychotic wrench throwing maniac stabbing me in med bay with energon upstarts. It's only for a few breems. Enough time for that matrix enhanced slagger to miss me and realize the mistake in not telling me sooner. I fried his foot and even his nannites need time to repair the armor once Ratchet rewires the insides." The femme commander stated.

"I would have fried everything," Chromia commented from her position leaning on the doorjamb. "Prime raising a sparkling alone, what was he thinking?"

Elita's lip plates bent upward at the corners. She hopped onto the recharge berth pretending to inspect it for firmness. "Oh, he didn't raise the sparkling, only created it. Gave it to Ironhide to raise and protect."

" Ironhide?" The purple femme repeated, her processors sliding to a halt. "He never said...I assumed…Prime asked him and he did a good job?"

"Apparently he did brilliantly at it."She corrected. "Chromia, where are you going? Chromia?"

_**IRONHIDE!!!!**_

The blast slammed hard as the mech had started to turn, flipping him backwards through the hangar wall. Skids and Mudflap saw the enraged femme and dove for the ground, uttering a spark felt plea to Primus to save them. She ran past them and out the hole, firing at the retreating black shape.

AUTOBOT EMERGENCY FREQUENCY – CHROMIA IS ON A RAMPAGE. IRONHIDE NEEDS HELP. ELITA1 OUT.

::How can we help?:: Ratchet sent, responding from med bay on the other side of the base.

::Shut Chromia down!:: Ironhide

::Stall! We are almost there. Pretend to be offline:: Optimus

::Another blast and I will be:: Ironhide ducked behind a building, using it as a temporary cover. Internal damage alarms screamed alerts. "Give them our old weapons .It will be safer that way. Safer for who? Frag it. I'm too old for this. So is she. Use to be she'd tell me why I was getting blasted before firing."

A roar had the humans covering their ears as she screamed. Ironhide stopped, his spark flaring at the sound. Hobbling back the way he had fled, he rounded the corner to see Grimlock and Chromia fighting it out. Her eyes were as red as his as he tried pinning her by weight alone. The rifle lay nearby on the pavement, crushed and unusable. Twisting, she folded both legs then kicked, sending Grimlock's' T-Rex form flying. He bounced, gouging a deep rut into the concrete.

Every bot froze, as sensors detected Decepticon targeting locks. Optimus realized the danger first, jumping for Elita. "Down!" he commanded then stumbled as his back exploded with smoke and fire. Elita fell under him, his weight pinning her pink and white frame down as he collapsed, optics dimming. Ironhide slid into Chromia as the sabot shells struck. They went down without a sound. Multiple lasers, energon blasts and rocket blasts devastated the two automated launchers.

"Help me separate them. Red Alert, check the femmes, then get them clear. Bumblebee, help Prime! Rest of you, find those other launchers! And call in the other teams!" Ratchet began issuing orders as he knelt by Ironhide. Autobots split all directions, armed and looking.

::Nice one. Armor is slagged but no internal damage. What happens when your femme realizes the real damage was before the blast?:: Ratchet pretended to be working feverishly on him, blocking the view of everyone else.

:Hush you. What about big bot?:: Ironhide

::Hurts. But functional:: Optimus sent to both of them while keeping his optics closed and systems low. ::Magnus and Prowl can handle this one. I need the rest::

::The other bots are busy searching. Time to get you both moved:: Ratchet sent. He leaped over to Prime, spraying him with the same gel designed to stop energon leaks, covering a wide area with the blue goop. ::Gel will hide what's below and stay still::

Humans used transport carriers to move them both as the femmes stood by, sparks and bonds active but receiving little from the mechs half. Ratchet forbid them from entering med bay, scared they might disassemble him before convincing them to focus on their bonds and memories to reassure their other halves during repair. Bumblebee acted upset and was comforted by Elita. It was breems later before they were allowed in. Both mechs were in recharge, the sensors above them displaying weakened but not spark threatening readings. Bumblebee vented softly, wiping at messy optics before leaving the room.

"They need to rest. Med bay is at risk because of human design. Our quarters are clear but I cannot monitor them both. Their rooms are at opposite ends and Bumblebee bunks by Ironhide's but lacks the size to help. If the energon patches fail," Ratchet sagged against the berth, covering his optics as though exhausted.

"Leave that to us." Elita stated as Chromia nodded. They left to prepare the rooms while the three of them laughed, waiting until Bumblebee returned. He replayed the images of the attack and the femmes' reaction to their mechs being carted off.

"Out all of you." Ratchet ordered. "And don't expect me to pick up the pieces if they ever find out."

"We would have died to protect them if necessary. How much more to live for them." Optimus reminded.

"Speak for yourself. I want her attention on my chassis." Ironhide quipped then laughed as the Bumblebee nearly overheated with embarrassment.

Ratchet warned Major Lennox about bond mates and only general information on sparking. Therefore, when the report of lightning and power surges came from the Autobot's private quarters, he ordered everyone to keep their distance and not to note it in any report or log or make any further mention of it. If the other Autobots all slept in the main hangar, outside their quarters without an explanation, he never commented on it. Or the betting pool on which pair would produce the first sparkling. Odds favored Ironhide and Chromia.


	36. Chapter 36 Things we do to stay safe

Author's Notes: Thank for all the reviews and comments from the faithful fans. And welcome to new readers discovering the series and story arcs for the first time. Tonight is shorter stuff. Busy at work and physically beat, including my brain.

Brief mention, in Transformers the first movie Megatron was called NBE-1 by the government while sealed under the dam. The weapons launchers last arc were based on his stolen technology and therefore registered as Decepticon. Some stolen tech is merely Cybertron in nature. Weapons, targeting and war ready would be Decepticon specific.

And did anyone notice Optimus semi alt form has metal tie down chains across the back of his cab in both movies? Onward to obeying rules, however stupid and lame they may be.

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_108. Do not assume what has worked successfully for humans over time to provide motivation with proven results will work for Transformers._

At Diego Garcia, the NEST (Networked Elements - Supporters and Transformers) super secret base, a solitary office light burned in the main office complex. Optimus, the last Prime and commander of the Autobot earth forces pinched his nose plates with metal digits in a rare display of exasperation.

"I could offline Magnus for this," he grumbled. "Found a new way to help morale Prime. Humans have used it for over a hundred years. It's simple, easy and we should give it a try,' he tells me. I should have known his help is anything but. Probably wanted more time to spend pursuing online games."

The data pad reports were shuffled together across his desk top, his blue armored hands gentle on their delicate surfaces. The stack went into the out bin for Prowl to distribute. Required reports had been a particular headache to adjust to once joining the humans. A race that could upload, share and return answers in a nano second to cover the same material that took humans days did not require briefings. Until Ultra Magnus had overheard Annabelle telling her dad about how her school day went. Now the Autobots gathered for the weekly reviews without complaint.

Optimus turned out the office light, not ready to face the morning. Elita was already on the recharge berth in their private quarters, lying at a side angle, covering most of it. Venting softly at her beautiful pink and white form, he quietly laid down on the floor, stretching out his twenty eight foot plus form. 'Better than most post battle conditions on Cybertron. Flat, smooth and clean.' He thought before letting the recharge cycle activate.

He spun, feeling the blade score deep through his back armor. Enraged, he slashed backwards; audio's recording the Decepticon's last gurgle on its own energon life force as the main lines severed. Optics scanned the battlefield, seeing too many of his own troops falling among sparkless Decepticons. Then a silver metallic bot emerged from the smoke. "Megatron! This ends here," he promised.

They ran towards each other, weapons colliding and shattering with the force. Optimus slammed an armored fist into his mid plates, feeling the metal collapse inward. Rearing back, his feet slid on scattered plating, his massive chassis going over backwards with his enemy trying to rip into his spark. "Megatron!" he roared, pushing the weight away as internal systems sluggishly tried to respond.

"Optimus! Optimus wake up!" *CRACK* The force rocked his head plates, snapping his optics open. The ceiling of their recharge room outlined Elita's kneeling on him. "Turn your processors on!"

"Megatron," he muttered, the last remnants of the nightmare fading.

"Megatron? I think not!" She vented rapidly, climbing off his armor. "I come online to you shouting, on the floor no less and that is how you greet me?"

"Forgive me 'Lita. I have…" he trailed off, uneasy to let her know his recharge times had been a recurring problem. He did have an image to keep as leader, even to his sparkmate. "Not wanted to bring you out of recharge early. That is one thing you share with Mikaela." He patted her leg, sitting up and tucking his feet inward.

"Mikaela?"

"The human mate of Sam. She is dangerous to wake also." He stated blandly, rising to his full height. "The weekly meeting will begin shortly. If you will excuse me." He inclined towards her, sliding out and around towards the door.

Prowl was handing out reports along with energon holding containers to each mech. "Detailed, on time and readable. An improvement." Optimus listened in but stayed out of obvious sensor range of his mechs.

"I wanted four gold stars!" Sunstreaker whined. "I only got three."

"Try next week." Sideswipe commented, holding up his two gold stars and one blue. "Knew that prank would cost us a star."

"Who would have thought serving energon in such a unique shape could be entertaining." Wheeljack joked with Major Lennox. "I feel sorry for Prime though."

"Because he doesn't get any stars being the leader?" The human military leader reasoned.

"No, he has to think of new tasks every week to earn one to five stars that is fair and equitable to every mech or femme regardless of size, strength or background. How long can he keep it fun?"

"As long as Prowl has to make rules."

_116. Do not create and attach bumper stickers on Autobot forms. They are a potential threat to our anonymity and the meaning intended can be misconstrued._

Bumblebee rolled back towards the reflective metal wall, wanting to see his rear bumper. "My other driver is a human," sticker was proudly displayed there. "Only for Sam would I wear this." Ironhide and Ratchet rounded the far buildings, arguing. Transforming quickly, the little bot flipped his back plate to the side hiding the sticker. Whistling idly, he watched them stomp by before relaxing.

His wrist relay beeped, detecting a familiar signal approaching. 'Sam,' he felt delight though his outward face never changed. Lacking his lower facial features, there was no way to express a smile, a frown or to curve lip plates. Instead he bounced in place, playing 'Let's get the party started.' Mikaela's beat up Ford Mustang drove into view. She parked in the designated spot for the base liaison, should any human accept the position. A way of protesting the government restrictions that required anyone to watch over the Transformers.

He waved both arms excitedly as his favorite humans waved back. Then Sam winced, reaching for his left shoulder as Mikaela turned, wincing and reaching for her lower back. Sensors detected increase nerve activity, respiration and variation of heartbeats indicating pain flares. Cooing sympathetically, he uplinked to Ratchet.

::Can you meet me at the hangar? Sam and Mikaela have small wounds I am unfamiliar with:: Bumblebee

::Size and type please. I'm a medic not a processor reader:: Ratchet sent then received and opened the data packet. He sent back a request to confirm the readings. The scout did so, adding a 'what is it?' request on the end of the data. The medic's answer was not what he expected.

Sam and Mikaela were unloading their belonging for the week's stay when he approached them. Their phones beeped as his text message appeared.

_*You got tattoos?!!!! Are you crazy?* Yellow Prime_. Mikaela blushed and pointed at Sam.

"It was my idea but we got them together this morning. Still hurt. You should see the needle they use!" He explained as Mikaela turned, lifting up her shirt. She pointed to the bandage on her lower spine, the barest blood stain showing through.

"The Autobot symbol is under there. Same for his shoulder," she said. "It was to be a surprise. Only no one told us it takes days to heal."

_*Why? You already have shown you side with us.* _

"When you join a family, you take their last name to show acceptance," Mikaela began. "Prime is a title held by only one bot and your names have variations depending on the language. And Sam and Mikaela Autobot sound odd. This symbol shows who you are with, instantly on any battlefield or situation. "

"Don't be mad 'Bee. I thought about asking you and she said we should have but how can we love you, all of you and not want to be more than we are?" Sam asked. "You alright?" The yellow bot wiped at his eyes, simulating tears. He nodded then bent down, folding his arms around the boy, and drawing him close before reaching out and dragging her in.

"Ow!" They yelped as sore places pulled. He released them, playing a groaning sound. Chirping, he stepped back and transformed. His bumper faced them, sticker and all. They laughed as he transformed back to his bi pedal form.

Ratchet examined them, coating the skin with a concoction he created that sped the healing of the skin. Prowl reminded them about the rule on glyphs which they countered that they wore a symbol, not a glyph. Optimus feared the Decepticons would kill them on sight when they saw. Sam laughed, "Is Megatron going to leave me alone if he doesn't see it?" Major Lennox worried his men might follow the example until Bumblebee sent his question.

::Can I adopt them? Make them my sparklings?:: Bumblebee

"They're human adults. You know that. Though sneaking off to get their armor engraved is youngling behavior at best," Ratchet grumbled.

"His idea has merit. Not all who pledge to the Autobot cause are bond brothers or answered my call to earth. In the past, they joined for revenge or to escape falling under Decepticon control. If we are to rebuild and thrive, we cannot let the past be all that exists. Are there any who deny their right to join us?" No sound was heard in the silence. "Samuel James Witwicky, Mikaela Sandra Banes will you stand with us, fight and live for that which is right, deny the darkness of hate and anger, and be the sparks for peace, until all are one?"

"Yes," They both said while tears filled their eyes.

"As Prime, I witness your pledge as those assembled here bear witness." He leaned down towards them as the Autobots voiced their agreement. "As Optimus, sparkmate of Elita1 and creator of Bumblebee, welcome to our family."

::Can they call you grandpa big bot?:: Bumblebee teased.

_137. Do not let concerns for safety interfere with our ability to fight. Humans require it; while important it can become an issue in wartime. _

Ironhide watched the soldiers removing the electrical heaters from under the desk spaces, while joking about starting fires or shorting out like hugging Jolt after a rain storm. "What are they doing?"

"Safety inspection." Jazz answered, hiding a grin as the black mech twitched. "Snuck up on you hmm?"

"That twitch is my safeties keeping me from beating wise aft mechs into metal shards." He countered, glaring down at the silver mech. "Keep that up and you will have to return from the matrix twice."

"Easy there' Hide. Pulling your chain as the humans say." His blue visor sparkled as he tilted his head.

"Optimus has chains in his alt form. I have cannons." They turned as a human shouted. Jazz walked over, kneeling to pick up the small piece of plastic then placed the green EXIT sign back up above the human size doorway.

"I thought that went on the trashcan for the liaison desk?" He asked.

"Human joke," the human answered, his heartbeat and respiration increasing with embarrassment. "Safety inspector will check everything this afternoon at fourteen hundred hours. We have to be ready."

"Our idea of safety is all green on weapons and battle computers." Ironhide stated.

"Speak for yourself," Ratchet's voice was heard as he entered through the Autobot size doors. "Mine is having enough parts to repair you lug heads that are too slow to dodge 'Con fire."

Optimus glanced over at his soldiers, lip plates twitching echoing his thoughts. 'Mine is having a brig big enough to hold all my problems.'

The Autobots watched various changes, searching the net to recommend several more. No bot admitted to it but the last four internal safety violations reports were hacked from the mainframe, printed and left for Major Lennox and his officers to find. At the appointed time, the officer arrived, his assistant hurriedly typing notes on a laptop as his voice droned on.

"Question for you robots." He began from his position on the rolling communications platform.

"We are autonomous sentient organisms from the planet Cybertron. Living, functional mechanical life forms. The term preferred is Autobots. Not robots." Optimus corrected softly.

"Right. Fire drill. Both exits are blocked, humans can't get out. What do you do?" He asked, both hands on his hips and a smirk on his lips.

As one, the five Autobots turned, targeting the west wall. Red laser lights displayed a variety of circle sizes, each huge. "Instant doorways," Jazz quipped. "Choose how you want them made. Energon, laser, pulsar or repeat fire metal shells."

"Are any of those hazardous? Do you have MSDS sheets on their materials? Proper storage? Stay back stickers?" He quizzed, the smirk gone.

Major Lennox interrupted, striding up very close to the official. "Weapons and technology are protected under the treaty. No official recognition of their existence means no storage labels or rules regarding." Fifteen minutes ,they were still arguing, quoting rules to each other. The Autobots left, transforming once in the cool fall air, rolling different directions as their tasks required.

"Has anyone seen the leader? The Pimp?"

"That's Prime!" Lennox shouted then controlled his temper immediately. "He is on base. It is a matter of finding him. Might be video conference with the Pentagon Joint Chiefs, discussing satellite arrays with the scientists or solving earth's pollution problems with the janitors." An hour of diligent searching failed to find him, though each Autobot claimed he had just been there.

Sam and Bumblebee helped, until they reached the airport strip. Sam tapped his guardian's leg, signaling for them to stand still. The official, his assistant typing on the laptop he carried, and the Major and his staff continued their search.

"See what I see?" He asked the yellow scout. "Fire house with three engine doors and four fire engines parked out front." Sam approached the middle right one. "Hey Optimus, nice disguise. Hologram or new alt form? 'Bee, please quit with scanning me. I have not lost my mind. Yet," the boy muttered. "Might if you keep doing that."

Bumblebee tapped his arm readout, advanced sensors indicating nothing before him except four human made emergency vehicles. Not one Autobot or Cybertron technology signal showed. He hesitated, then closed his optics, feeling for his bond with his creator. The faintest echo of amusement rippled back from the middle engine. The image shimmered then collapsed. A very distinct red and blue semi parked there, transforming up into Optimus Prime.

"How did you know Sam?"

"Your shadow. It was shorter and wider than the others. Like a Peterbilt semi. Holograms look real but not to the sun." The human youth explained. "Need to add shadow shapes to your holograms."

"Cybertron faces the sun or away by planetary halves. Earth's rotation is more complex and we shall have to take that into consideration. Thank you for the observation Sam. It may assist us in battle. " Prime thanked him, before transforming back into his alt form. "Need a lift?"

"Got a ride." He pointed towards Bumblebee who chirped and whistled. "Second to none" music clip played. "Why were you sitting there? Other than looking cool or should I say hot as a fire engine?"

"The safety inspector was getting on my last neural processor link. I thought it best to avoid the man until he departs. Insisted on unwise and unnecessary regulations. I was tempted to assist his departure over to the Decepticons to lecture them per Ironhide and Ratchet's suggestion. " His engine roared to life, then rumbled as he rolled back towards the main base.

Sam sighed, feeling guilty for not explaining he felt Optimus as a strong energy pulse first then noticed the odd shaped shadow. Bumblebee rumbled as he adjusted scanners, calibrating to look for shadows. 'If I tell him I will never leave med bay. Mikaela will be mad I didn't tell her. My parents will freak. But no Decepticon can ever sneak up on me again. For now, stay quiet. How much trouble could it cause?'


	37. Chapter 37 What we see

Author's Notes: Thanks for the adding this to favorite stories, author alerts and reviews on previous chapters as you read them. I have zero computer access during the work day, secure financial setting so absolutely no outside contact. Questions and review replies only at night or early morning.

New story arc, more intense in this chapter. *feels tingle on skin* Yes, Bumblebee I am okay. No, I have not been around Ratchet too long. I was an EMT and volunteer firefighter and used that for the medical scene. And humor on scene is how we kept from crying sometimes. Hence rule 145, do I look okay?!

And Sam is more than a screaming, running for his life personality. Yes, he has a few issues, okay a subscription by now, but seriously. Everyone's worse fear is going crazy and not knowing if you really are or not. Mix in government agents and teenage into a man hormones around a sexy girlfriend, over protective parents, new college and a concerned car that is really an alien robot among a group of alien robots and try to have a good day. Onward to dealing with life's medical interruptions and showing you care.

_142. Do not let humans intimidate, attempt to control, blackmail or command you to any action or forbid action not approved or ordered by Autobot Command and NEST approved officers. _

Major Will Lennox rummaged in the back of his spare clothes closet, feeling for a little wooden shoebox. On hands and knees, his pose was undignified as a NEST field ops leader but the locked door to his quarters prevented accidental discovery. "Here somewhere. Light would burn out when I turned it on," he grumbled, pulling out old army boots, copies of field reports, data chips, and two jewelers' boxes holding medals. "Maybe I should ask Sarah to organize this next time she visits. I never have the time. Got it!" He pulled it out, popping the hidden spring lock.

Inside its velvet-lined space, a group of photos and papers sat nestled with dates and names on sticky notes. "Blackmail via digital image capture. Wicked!" A photograph of Sunstreaker, in his yellow alt mode, the interior shredded and claw marks on the glass was set aside.

"I remember that. New to earth, wanted to get Annabelle a kitten for a surprise. Read a report note about feral cats nearby and went to get her one. Only he did not realize the size difference between our worlds yet. Grabbed a sleeping cougar, shocking it to carry it back here. Then it woke up early," Will chuckled, recalling the golden twin rolling in, yelling for Ratchet. The driver door opening and the mad golden cat leaping out, running across the tarmac as soldiers dove for cover. "Oh that was fun. Cougar was released back and I got photos. Hmm, not the mech I need for this. Wheeljack? No."

A black and white security print, showing a small, balding man with large glasses running for his life and Ironhide right behind, firing cannon blasts as Optimus and Ratchet jumped to tackle him. "Ironhide? Hmm, he blackmails back. How was he to know Murphy's Law was a phrase? Bad luck the third liaison assigned was named Murphy." More photos were removed then set aside, each a story in itself.

"What is this doing here? Picnic last month." The color photo showed the beach, Annabelle's giant sand castle and the post picnic aftermath. On the side porch Sam and Mikeala were asleep, Bumblebee cradling them in his mechanical arms and he rested against one of Ironhide's cannons like a pillow. "Nothing odd there." He removed the photo then hesitated, glancing at it closer. Mikeala was leaning against Sam but he was resting on the mech's yellow armor, not her. One hand was outstretched into Bumblebees open metal palm. The Major frowned, recalling other odd behavior. "This can wait. I need to confirm an event." The box was closed, relocked and dumped back into the closet. Other items were tossed in, pushed back as they fell forward and the door wedged close.

Twenty minutes later the Major frowned again as the security image replayed itself. Sam approached the fire engine, identifying Optimus. "Nice cover kid. Only one problem," he mumbled under his breath. "You approached from the left and said hello before seeing the shadow. It was on the right side that late in the afternoon." He reached for the phone in his pocket and dialed a connection known to only a handful of humans. "Can you meet me in the main hangar? Have a possible situation involving little spark."

Ten minutes later, Optimus Prime watched the video sequence while replaying the event from his internal memory systems. "Confirmed. Sam approached before detection of the shadow. And he specifically mentioned the word 'pulse' when touching the trans scan vehicles earlier?" The man nodded then waited.

"Conferring with Ratchet now." Bright blue optics dimmed for a brief instant before returning to normal. "All scans are satisfactory. Mental processes are within tolerable levels for your race. It is not unheard of to hone perceptions in your race. Your training allows you to sneak up on potential targets without their knowledge and detect friend from foe before physical contact in darkness." He shrugged, a very human gesture. "I will talk with Sam. He has undoubtedly acquired the same skill. Do not concern yourself with this Major," the tall red and blue mech turned, walking away and effectively ending the conversation.

::Does he suspect?:: Ratchet

::Human curiosity. We will handle it:: Optimus

::Should we alert Bumblebee?:: Ironhide

::No, his concern for the boy is begging to interfere with his judgment:: Ratchet

::I will talk to Sam. You can compare in depth scans while he recharges:: Optimus

::I have checked them a thousand times Prime:: The medic sounded testy :: Small changes in the brain before Egypt with two major upgrades after, in memory and apparent skills acquisition. Data indicates the vast majority of information is dormant, unable to be accessed by biological means. Humans kept us from Sam the first weeks following the destruction of the whole Allspark. The afternoon you sent the call to the stars was the first time we were allowed together. By then any system alteration following contact with the Allspark were established. The only other medical records were primitive x-rays from his fall as a child off a swing set. Useless waste of thermal light if you ask me::

::Nobody did ask you bucket of bolts:: Ironhide quipped.

::I'll bucket your aft next time you want repairs:: Ratchet

Optimus closed the connection, knowing it would be a breem or more before those two quit. 'If Sam is becoming more sensitive to us, or even like us from the Allspark or Matrix, we must welcome the change. I will ask Bumblebee and Mikeala to submit to a deep scan from Ratchet. Perhaps they have changed as well. He handled the Allspark and was present when Sam found the matrix as well as the human sparkmate.'

He stepped around a unit of marching soldiers, careful to place his massive weight gently on the pavement. Internal connections completed their task, leaving a voicemail on Mikeala's phone and Bumblebee's signal processors. He waited for the supply tucks to roll by, before continuing towards med bay. Bumblebee echoed back a confirmation for his scan, en route shortly. Mikeala and Ratchet were waiting when he entered.

"Got your message. He," she gestured towards the medic. "Was explaining what and why. I don't like the idea of probing around in my mind. Would you submit to one?"

"I have." Optimus stated calmly. "Though for our race it is a more invasive and sensitive procedure. You will not be harmed."

::Been a while Prime. Shall I schedule you after them?:: Ratchet

::NO! Not needed.:: He snapped, then mentally flipped a processing unit as the medic's optics narrowed. He considered mentioning the recharge interruptions and nightmares then settled for the most obvious truth. ::I am concerned about Sam. He is my human son now. It is because of us the war was brought here and he has suffered. I do not wish him to lose what normalcy he enjoys by more of our actions::

::We cannot protect him forever:: Ratchet sent then focused on Mikeala. "By adoption, you are our family. We do not risk family."

"Uh, about that." She smirked, pulling on her ponytail. "Does that mean Sam and I are now brother and sister? That would be too weird."

"No," Ratchet answered while missing the hidden reference. "Mechs and femmes sparked at the same time, might be considered related units but your spark days are a year apart. Your pairing is accepted and spark mates take precedent over all other considerations."

Optimus closed his optics, feeling pain at the way he had left Elita to protect the Allspark.

_143. Do not ask humans about previous mating relationships they have had. It is an intensely complicated subject and may involve hurt and emotions we are not equipped to handle or understand fully at that time. _

Bumblebee wolf whistled as Mikeala walked out of the water, her swimsuit showing her curves very well. She blew him a kiss then chuckled as he ducked, pointing over at Sam.

"Get your own femme. I waited forever for mine." Sam instructed, holding out towels for her.

"Trying to cover me up Sam?" she asked, grabbing the first towel."No one on the beach except us."

"Me? Nah. One for your hair so it won't drip down your back which annoys you. One for your body, and one to wipe your feet since you hate sand sticking to them. Right?" He grinned at her shocked expression.

"You know everything about me?"

"Not everything. I uhm," he blushed, looking away.

"Ask me," she teased, wrapping her hair in the towel.

"Did you sleep with Trent?" He asked as Bumblebee yelped, sitting straight up.

"Nope. That was your big question? Oh, you didn't know did you?" She giggled, sitting down on the big towel. "Steroids. Gave him muscles from the waist up. Killed off everything from the waist down. I figured his big truck was his way to look manly."

"Whoa, I never knew."

"He never wore anything tight fitting and you're not the type to go looking at other men in the showers Sam. You barely look at me."

"Mikeala!" He yelled, blushing and hiding his head in his arms. A robotic chuckle only made it worse.

_144. Do not assume human safety precautions insure safety to themselves or our race. Their knowledge, perceptual scope and reaction time is severely limited. _

Wheeljack watched the human scientists charge the generator system, keeping his reaction system on full alert.

"That's it?" Sam asked. " A humming noise? I waited an hour for this to get extra credit for a science project? Should it, I don't know, feel like something powerful? Wheelie is small compared to this behemoth," the boy waved in the direction of the massive generator. "He produces like a hundred times this."

"Wheelie has Cybertronian technology and a spark. The generator will power the entire base in event of another hurricane for several of your human months on a single reaction of metal to water." The Autobot inventor kneeled, leaning down by the human for the rest. "They made it, I improved the design but they built and run it. Inefficient but the treaty forbids advanced technology. I did ensure adequate safeguards." His metal palm rotated up, displaying a holo image of the generators internal components. Cybertron glyphs listed safeties and overrides built in physically and by coding. Sam nodded, absently reading the schematic before turning and walking over towards the rolled up plans. He unfurled them, concentrating on finding the right one.

"'Jack, get over here!" He yelled, pointing down. "You out!" He commanded to the scientists. They stared open mouthed, not moving from their equipment. "The inner chamber is not walled. They also skipped the encoding double enforcement. Says here its phase II and III."

"It was an unnecessary expense in metal. Our design is safe. You are the one who is always blowing experiments up, not us." The head researcher argued pointing towards the stable readings. "One hour and not a blip. And you boy, what freshman college course taught you to be rude to a triple doctorate level physicist?"

Wheeljack read all the blueprints instantly, then turned wide optics to the machine, switching to scan modes too advanced to be described in the English language. "The metal is vibrating in the clamp. Shut it down. If it moves, the integrity field collapses causing it to fall into the water."

"Vibration? Everything moves bot! My field design is perfect enhancement on the original technology. And what happens if it falls? The machine melts. We start over."

Sam flipped through the blueprints, looking for the clue to what his mind was trying to tell him. The buzzing sound was getting louder to his ears. Then he saw it. "NBE-1. They copied it from NBE-1. It's Decepticon based!" His mind matched the data in a way he could never explain. "The power levels are for Megatron's main gun!"

Wheeljack's side bars flared rainbow colors while simultaneously engaging security overrides to release the outer lab doors and open the roof hatches. The buzzing turned to a roar as the machine began shaking. Time slowed. Scientists stared at the spiking readings, looking back at their machine. Wheeljack dove towards Sam as the world went white.

Sam's skin burned, his mind feeling the pulse that was Wheeljack flare and fade. The cement under him was cool but darkness filled the lab. "Jack? Can you hear me?" Silence was heard. He moved slowly, realizing he was encircled by hard metal. He relaxed, listening. Two mech pulses were getting closer. 'Not who I want,' he thought. 'I'm losing it.' The lightheaded feeling grew stronger as he imagined reaching out across the base."Bee? I need you Bee.' For one second, he felt the spark that was 'Bee. And connected. Then darkness claimed his mind.

An Autobot emergency all call went out when Wheeljack failed to answer a frantic Bumblebee.

_145. When a human asks if you are ok / are you hurt do not answer:_

_a. Do I look slaggin okay?_

_b. My chassis is here but my arm and leg are there. Mind using your brain to retrieve them and not to ask dumb aft questions like that ?_

_c. Lovely day today. Thought I'd lie here and watch clouds go by for awhile. _

_d. I always *pant gasp* sound like this *wheeze* on the battlefield._

_e. No, I'm fine. *pretend to faint and take optics offline* _*Sunstreaker

_f. Jump up screaming after pretending to be offline and the humans are poking you. _*Sideswipe

_g. You bleed red and I bleed blue energon. What color is this? _

_h. I'm not okay. My femme left me, my aft got kicked by Decepticons and my last optic view might be you fleshling! Primus hates me! _

_i.*cry and pretend to leak optic fluid* My paint is all scratched! _*Sunstreaker

_j. No, you must carry on.*hand them your energon sword, knowing they can't handle the weight*_

_k. That left a mark. No, a huge burning hole all the way thru so yes it hurts!_

_l. I think I'll feel that tomorrow. Wait, I feel it now! Ow! Ow! Ow!_

_m. Whatever the opposite of ok is, that would be me right about now. _

_n. Ratchet is yelling at me, you are holding my hand so what am I missing here ?_

_o. I was until you yelled at me if I was ok?!_

_p. I'm hurt not deaf and you are one ugly squishy. _

_r. Gasp and say "Rosebot" before going into stasis shock_

_s. Tell my femme *rattle off phrase only in Cybertronian* It's important she know that!_

_t. I don't mind joining the matrix. Could use the rest from you and this planet. _

The faintest sounds brought Sam back to consciousness. He opened his eyes to darkness then reached, feeling cloth bandages on his face.

"Easy Sam, you're in med bay." Mikeala's voice comforted him, strong hands holding his tightly, her calluses rubbing on his soft skin.

"Your tissue is burned by overexposure to ultraviolet radiation producing the pain reaction." Ratchet explained.

"You're sunburned Sam. Did you have to make it sound life threatening?" He pictured her angry face, red lips pursed, and dark hair falling forward. "No worse than last summer at the lake when you fell asleep. Wheeljack blocked most of the explosion. I saw the flash from here. The bandages have lidocaine and aloe in them. You are the only dork I know," her breath tickled his ear as she leaned close. "Who goes to the beach and gets sunburned inside a concrete building."

He nodded, the pounding of his heart slowing. He felt three pulses in the room. 'One strong and closest is Ratchet, one fainter across the room is Wheeljack and the one between the two has to be Bumblebee. Know him anywhere.' He thought.

"Can I sit up? How soon can these come off? And relax Bumblebee, I'm fine." He said, freeing one of his hands and reaching his direction.

An anxious cooing sound and the middle spark moved closer. "How did you know Sam?" Mikeala asked.

"I need him. Where else would he be?" He covered rapidly then felt a tug on his skin.

"We're removing the bandages. Wait a bit." Cool air flowed onto his skin without pain. He blinked, seeing only darkness.

'Would leave my face until last.' He thought and kept his eyes closed. A hand touched his cheek, caressing it gently and teasing across his lips. He kissed it, smelling her perfume.

"He's fine," she giggled, pulling back."Well? How do you look? Beside lobster red that is?"

"Remove the bandage from my eyes and I will let you know." He said then heard her gasp. "What?" he opened his eyes wide, seeing darkness. The normal green color was gone, showing only milky white.

A short time later, the bots conversed in the hallway, out of his hearing range. "Flash blindness Optimus. A visual impairment following exposure to a light flash of extremely high intensity. The human specialist thinks it will last for a few days. The bleaching of the retinal pigment was a side effect. As the pigment returns to normal, so too will his sight." Ratchet explained.

"No permanent damage?" Optimus asked, keeping motion locks in place. His form was erect and balanced, the proper look of a concerned leader receiving a standard medical report. Only the rapid venting betrayed his anxiety.

"None. His vision will reset to normal. The boy needs rest and both Bumblebee and Mikeala stay close. He asked to talk with you." The medic stepped aside, sliding in between Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. "Other visitors starting tonight but keep it short and brief." He hefted a wrench threateningly, seeing Hound and Ultra Magnus wince. The other Autobots nodded then left to continue set aside duties or continued their waiting in the hallway.

"Hello Optimus." Sam greeted him as soon as the doors slid apart and he took his first step inside. The boy looked at him, the cloudy white unsettling. "I was afraid you wouldn't come."

"I will always come Samuel." He reassured, his deep voice strong and sure.

"I thought you might be mad." The boy poked at the sheets, closing his eyes and leaning back. "I didn't mean to upset everyone."

"Why would you think that?" He settled his massive frame into the Autobot size chair, hearing it creak but holding his mass.

"The group in the hallway. Ratchet standing between them and the door. And Wheeljack left while I was sleeping, without letting me thank him."

"You can sense us." Statement and not a question.

"Yes," he whispered.

_To be continued..._


	38. Chapter 38 Down but not out

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and comments. Keeps the energy and ideas flowing. Always fun to see what people think of each chapter, knowing there is usually a plan and pattern yet to be revealed. My roommates actually got a birthday cake with red and blue flames across it and stuck an Optimus Prime movie version on it. When I picked it off the cake, I took it over to the sink. Somehow licking off the frosting seemed way too weird and perverted!!

Misc note: Mikeala is spelled with _ea_ as I found out this week. Early chapters had the letters reversed. Oops. My bad. Even Prowl missed that one. And I have worked with professionals and officers of previous companies that thought being boss meant being an all knowing jerk over everyone else. Even when all they had was school knowledge and family connections to get them that job. Life and experiences teach by hurting but you learn fast.

And here is a unique possibility on the Allspark not seen elsewhere that I know of. Onward to taking it easy and dealing with family revelations.

TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR

Optimus and Mikeala listened to Ratchet's report, as Sam rested nearby. The red color was fading as his skin healed faster under their care than any hospital could have achieved. He refused to bandage his eyes, since they were going to get better and argued about having to remain in medbay.

"No way, absolutely not and not if you ever want to see me naked again," was Mikeala's final threat that got him to agree.

"By tomorrow, he can be allowed to resume normal motor functioning with minimal assistance. The dangers of replicating detrimental microorganisms in host tissue have elapsed." Ratchet concluded.

"No infection. Do you have to make everything sounds serious?" Mikeala asked, ignoring the hand motions he made her way. All wrenches had been secured as a safety measure and he could only gesture his favorite way of handling annoyances. "Trauma drama sheesh. You need to cut back on the soap operas."

"Is our assistance required in any other way?" Optimus quickly stepped in verbally.

"I have a request." Sam said. "I want Bumblebee to take care of me, not Mikeala. Let me explain!" he gestured hands up defensively, facing her general direction. "He's upset and overprotective worse than ever. Let us work this out together. Besides," he grinned mischievously. "Bumblebee wanted a sparkling right? To raise? Maybe time he learned it's not as easy as he thinks." He heard their chuckles.

"I'm sure Ironhide could fill you in," Ratchet said. "Provide some pointers on what we had to put up with when he was a sparkling. Refusing to recharge, picky on energon flavors and sneaking off every nano second you weren't looking to create trouble."

"Sparkling or boyfriend? Sounds the same to me." She teased.

_117. Do not make unattended drones to assist in human or Autobot general maintenance chores. Humans or a mech must be present to monitor potential problems and prevent theft of the devices. _*Wheeljack, twins (either set) or Kup.

"Looks small," the maintenance director continued to examine the square drone. "My vacuum cleaner is twice this size and this lab is huge. My men removed the debris but it's still a mess." He gestured at the charred floor and crumble dust everywhere. "We don't need this space yet," he admitted to Wheeljack. "But it is the spare lab and needs to be ready. Thank you for saving the boy. He's a good kid."

"I wish I could have saved the others too." Wheeljack's side bars flashed a soft blue with twinges of black. His white paint with red and green coloring was unmarked following self repair but his usual cheerfulness was subdued. "I had to make a choice."

"Man was a pain in the aft. Talked down to us like we were too stupid to do anything but push a mop. He probably never lived long enough to realize the mistake he'd made. Left a mess for everyone else to handle. Typical." He griped then bumped the drone with his foot. "What's in there?"

"A silicone sealant modified on a molecular level. A few coats and this floor will be factory shine new. Normally they would be on a higher speed setting but Optimus imposed that restriction after the last incident," the inventor's side bar lights flushed bright scarlet.

The maintenance director coughed, hiding his grimace. 'Incident? Dang near wiped a tenth of the base before Blurr could catch that little rolling disaster. Too fast to see and went barreling through everything in its path. Only reason I'm allowing this is my men are wary of it being haunted now.'

"And go." Wheeljack pushed the green button on its top. With a transforming sound, the small square popped out four multi directional wheels and a buffer pad. Spraying liquid, it spun, rubbing the polish in and cleaning the floor. "See?" Wheeljack looked down, not finding the human. He looked over his shoulder, seeing the human crouching behind his leg, watching the drone. "I programmed it to move around humans then clean that area on its return path. It's safe." He triggered the next one sitting in the middle of the floor, then the one on the last third of the warehouse. "The sealant is enough to use for a year and last longer than this structure. Turn off in fourteen breems, or two hours. Repeat cleaning once every fourteen orns or six months human time. Call me if needed."

He left as the human watched from behind a support pillar. When none of them malfunctioned, he relaxed, calling his girlfriend. Then he left, wanting to change before meeting for dinner. It was five days later he remembered the drones. The drones were still rolling back and forth, the floor looking like polished glass. A single step and he fell, sliding quite a ways. Thankfully, his two-way radio was still in his pocket.

The emergency team arriving stepped onto the surface, sliding and falling. They called for help. The next two medics arrived, running forward to help and fell, sliding past the first group. As did the next two teams anxious to assist and not listening to the yelled warnings when entering.

In the end, Jazz and Trailbreaker used their grappling hooks to retrieve eleven humans back to the non-polished part. The area became the new skating rink and impact testing area. Indoor hockey worked when everybody remembered to wear friction pads to slow their sliding. Otherwise, it was a race between their bodies and the puck into the net.

_110. __Do not leave a fellow Autobot or NEST teammate unattended and unmonitored during the recovery stage. Especially a human. A breem of activity can undo joors of repair. *Amended 09/26/09 by Chief Medical Officer. "undo joors of repair and require ice packs for the wrench shaped bruises."_

Sam opened his eyes, gasping at the faint light. 'I see dark blurry shapes but I can see light and dark.' Closing his eyes, he focused. 'Ratchet to my right, Bumblebee next berth over, both in recharge. Mikeala is here somewhere too, no idea where.' Sitting up, he wiggled as sensitive skin itched. 'Thirsty,' he licked dry lips, realizing the dark shape at the end of the recharge berth had to be a serving tray.

Barely making a sound on the flat surface, Sam crawled forward. Stretching out his hands, he patted around each shape, trying to identify it. "What are these, welded shut? I can't budge them. No labels. Couldn't read them even if they were.' The sigh of frustration was echoed from across the room. He turned towards it, feeling the spark that was Bumblebee moving closer. Ancient language glyphs super imposed across his vision before disappearing. 'Torture, pain, need' he decoded as metal fingers rustled his hair.

"Thirsty." His cloudy eyes showed the faintest twinge of green in the center. A human coffee cup was pressed into his hands and he gulped the water."More?" Noises indicated his guardian walking away, refilling it and returning.

"Hey lover," a female voice purred from below him. He instinctively leaned towards it when metal fingers held him tight. "Watch the edge Sam. You don't need broken bones." Her voice rose to his height as she climbed the ladder. "You should have said you needed us. Now, hungry? Cheeseburger and fries? Tacos? Steak sandwich with chips? Spaghetti? Chef Salad? Cake with ice cream?" Each was met with a negative head shake.

"Samuel James Witwicky! What is your problem? You need to eat," She groused. "Fine. You figure it out," she told Bumblebee before climbing back down to the floor and stomping out.

He shrugged, rustling the sheets with his hands. "Let me think about it. I'm just tired."

::Help! He won't eat:: Bumblebee

::He will eat for the right food. Figure out what it is. How difficult can that be?:: Ratchet sent before leaving. He joined Mikeala in the hallway and nearly lost it laughing.

_151. Do not plan or execute a prank that endangers the continued functioning, either mentally or physically, of any Autobot command officer, especially our last Prime. _

Bumblebee increased his sensors to their full range. 'Empty structures, multiple humans but no mechs identified. Perfect time to sneak out for pizza,' he processed, holding Sam tightly against his chest. Ghosting across the open space, his metal form was noiseless contrasted to his apparent size and mass. The human remained still in his arms, tightly bundled in layers of clothing against the fall air. The outer fence was simply stepped over, its barb wire and electrical current never allowed to touch the armored metal.

Cooing softly, Bumblebee sat Sam down on the ground, carefully balancing him on his feet. Stepping back, he transformed slowly into his Camaro alt form before opening the driver door.

"What took so long?" Sam asked, reaching for the vague dark shape. "Wait, this is the driver side," he felt the steering wheel. A soft whistle encouraged. "You sure? I have no problem with, okay." He laughed as the whistle increased in volume and intensity. Stretching out, the seat hardened against his back, lengthening to fit under his legs to his knees. The door closed. Keys jingled as the steering column raised and pulled in on itself for more room.

"Pizza delivery," a voice clip played as they rolled out and away from the fence, a security camera the only witness.

In their private quarters, the twins exchanged a metallic high five hand slap. "Told you bro, tapping into the security system was smart."

"Blackmail the little sneak? Tell Ratchet and watch the wrench throwing? Let Ironhide and Optimus know he is missing with the human in a few breems?" Sideswipe pondered while trying to calculate between which would be more fun to watch versus give them the most advantage in the future.

"Better. Got pink paint?" Sunstreaker asked, his lip plates forming into a full smile.

"Too passé. We already painted him pink with flowers. Nobody seemed to care."

"Not a total repaint," his smile turned to a smirk. "This is what I had in mind." By the time he was done explaining, his twin nearly fell off his bunk with laughter.

Bright and early, Bumblebee left med bay, heading to get his daily fill of energon while Ratchet guarded his humans. Ten minutes later, his form slid to the floor in Sideswipe's arms. "Told you tranking him would be easy. No one expects an attack on familiar territory by a friend." They readied their tools then carried the bot back to his quarters, energon container nearby.

To the astro second calculated, he snapped online, awareness returning. Processors showed a short time sequence gap, disregarded as minor he guzzled the energon, wanting to complete his morning tasks before returning to med bay and Sam.

In the main hangar, the twins barely hid their anticipation, passing the time talking to the other Autobots.

"Anyone see Arcee this morning?" Sunstreaker asked, his tone neutral while showing a faint frown on his facial plates.

"Mission with NEST. Was on the schedule. Left early with Flareup, Chromia and Hound. Why?" Ironhide asked, peering at him.

He pretended to pout, "I had planned to be with her. Didn't work out."

"She had another mech you mean," his twin commented, ducking away from the punch thrown his way. "Being honest bro! Her loss picking any other mech." The assembled Autobots ignored their bickering, long familiar with their antics.

"Arcee has taste if she passed on you," Ironhide muttered.

"I don't believe it," Sunstreaker growled as Bumblebee strode in, raising one hand in greeting and whistling cheerfully. His optics narrowed, pointing to his chest then at the young mech. The other Autobots noticed his motions, blinking startled optics. His lower chest was faintly scratched, below the yellow Camaro bumper shape, with paint streaks of pink. The same pink that was Arcee's color.

"Maybe she likes them younger," Sideswipe joked then ducked behind Ironhide as Sunstreaker glared, unsubspacing a sword.

"Bumblebee, where…uhm…what did you do last night?" Ironhide asked, as the others watched. The youngling vented softly, systems rising as he pantomimed recharging and walking to check on Sam then recharging again. He gestured both arms out widely with a querying tone.

"Recharging? That's it?" His guardian asked, staring at the pink scratches below his chest plates. Bumblebee nodded rapidly before looking away. Head down, hands folded behind his back, he shuffled in place identical as when a sparkling and in trouble.

::Maybe you should have _the talk_ with him Ironhide. Unless you want another sparkling to raise:: Sideswipe

::Talk? He's a youngling!:: Ironhide's mental tone roared back as his cannons cycled.

::Old enough to lie about where or what he did. I say let him spark his own problems:: Sunstreaker snipped. They watched the black weapons mech sway on his feet before he steadied. Optimus entered through the main door, optics flashing back and forth, taking the scene in.

::Twin problems?:: Optimus

::'Bee sparked with Arcee last night! You have to talk with him:: Ironhide sent, his tone sounding frazzled.

:He what?!:: The mech literally stumbled over his own feet, losing his internal compensators. The pink scratches were proof enough.

::Ratchet! You need to talk to Bumblebee and Arcee NOW!:: Optimus

::What's the emergency? I'm a medic not a bot sitter. Hence why I'm in med bay. Talk to Ironhide:: Ratchet

::They sparked! My son and Arcee. What do I do? He's a youngling and you need to talk to him before they…:: Optimus' connection faded out suddenly. He waited for the connection to reestablish when another signal clicked in.

::Emergency in main hangar. Prime is down, systems overload:: Ironhide yelled at the medic. ::Get your aft over here!::

Ratchet arrived as Optimus' own systems reset, bringing him back online. Ironhide held Bumblebee tightly, up in the air, as he struggled to reach the twins. They were on the floor rolling and laughing.

*CHIRP CLICK *CACKLE STATIC* CLUNK CHIRP*BZZZ SNICK *

"Bumblebee! Quit swearing!" Optimus commanded, rising back to his full height.

"And no vocalizing!" Ratchet bopped him on his head plates, glaring optic to optic. "Why do you have pink repair paint on you?" The prank was explained and Bumblebee confessed to sneaking Sam out for pizza. His punishment was cleaning the brig for an orn. The twins were denied access to any and all paints, including any needed to touch up their scratches or battle damage for the same orn. Ratchet, Ironhide and Optimus almost relented seeing what Arcee inflicted on them when she returned and found out what had happened. Almost that was.

**Sam, Optimus and post lab recovery (pt 2 ) **

"How is Dr Jensen and his team recovering?" Sam asked, shifting and trying to get comfortable after being bedridden for hours.

"They did not survive the explosion. The generator split in half with one piece rupturing their direction. Wheeljack and you were off to the side. From Dr. Jensen's notes, he had worked with Sector Seven on minor projects but never directly with Megatron. Thought the scientific data claims were government hyperbole to justify research money. His schooling met our standards, his background was clear and he had no personal relationships to interfere with remaining on base for months on end with projects," Ratchet explained. "I have other matters to attend to. If you will excuse me." He went out the doors, leaving the two of them alone.

"I tried warning him." The pain in the human's voice was evident.

"His arrogance and belief in his own intellectual superiority was his undoing. An odd trait for a scientist."

"Starscream is a scientist." Sam reminded.

Optimus chuckled. "Point taken. Prowl has a logic glitch. Personality flaws must be an unwritten requirement for second in commands."

Sam opened his eyes and looked at Optimus, blinking as ancient glyphs superimposed themselves before fading. "You're not recharging properly," he said. "You see offlining and battles every time you do. Your pain keeps you from Elita and you fear appearing weak or in distress as a leader."

"How?" he sputtered but did not deny it.

"The Allspark was essence and power. When the cube compacted for Bumblebee, it transferred part of itself into subspace. With the cube's physical destruction and both known shards being used, it remains trapped there. But not powerless."

_To be continued…_


	39. Chapter 39 Knowing but not understanding

Author's Notes: Thank you for the reviews and special thanks to my faithful fans who review nearly every chapter. In ROTF, it was the blackboard scene in the astronomy class that gave me the Allspark idea. Sam was talking about energon and seventeen other dimensions. Subspace is more than an alternate void where weapons are dumped into and then retrieved or a path used to hop from one place to another via a spacebridge.

My intention was to stick to G1 canon and the movies but that has gone the way of the Fallen. Crushed, beaten and spark crushed. Same for historical characters, especially femmes.

And don't get spoiled by three chapters posting in 2 days. Slow weekend life and most of the parts were ready to go in between the story arcs. Now the hard work begins. Onward to knowing a solution but not finding it yet.

TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR

_109. Do not force or attempt to force a mix of the two races, Transformer and human. Each is distinct with their habits, customs and personal mannerisms._

Ironhide's head snapped up, cannon cycling as the yellow mech froze in the doorway. "You know better than to sneak up on me youngling. In my own quarters or not. What if Chromia had been in here?"

He pointed at the door lock, and pretended to listen before giving a human thumbs up gesture.

"Better not catch you listening in on us." The old mech growled, returning to rub one of his tires with a blackened rag. The recharge berth below him was smeared in spots with the black stain.

::Need help. Need to bathe Sam and he refuses. Slapped at me and yelled when I tried. Even Mikeala and Ratchet are powerless. His skin needs the coating. I can force him:: Bumblebee

"But you're afraid to hurt him hmm? Quite a quandary there. Show you care by half drowning him and risk injury? Let me guess, no amount of explaining, talking or begging worked?" Ironhide said while keeping his head down. The smirk on his lip plates was not controllable. "Not able to help. He's your responsibility and I know you will figure it out." The soft moan sound was pitiful but did not erase vorns of memories of Bumblebee fighting him at cleaning time as a sparkling and youngling.

::What are you doing?:: He finally inquired.

"You know humans dye their hair to look younger? Figured my tires needed blackening. Can't add a reflective shine like Sunstreaker, need my flat black to fight in the dark. Don't want to appear ancient and worn out either for my femme either." Ironhide explained then growled, throwing the rag at the laughing bot. "Primus spare me from turbo revving young mechs."

_146. Do not show disrespect to a command officer through the use of nicknames, especially when said mech or femme has stated their disapproval of said nickname. Including but not limited to:_

_a. Prowlie, Prowler, Prowoe or Prorule Maker. _

_b. Primebot, Primie or Optimax._

_c. Ironhide as Little blast, big blast, blastmaster or Blaster (another Autobot name)_

_d. Major Lennie, Lionox, Len, or Willie. _

_e. Riptech, Wrenchit, or Chief Mad Officer instead of Chief Medical Officer _

Second in command and designated Security Officer Prowl completed his inspection of the brig, approving the final release of Bumblebee from having to clean it as punishment. "Surprised he even knew where it was. Never needed to throw him in this one. " He hesitated, twitching his head as the thought of him having to be brigged like the twins. The logic glitch almost engaged. "Normal processing resuming. Prime would handle such a reprimand personally. His 'I'm disappointed' is more effective than time in solitary confinement." Returning to his office, he confiscated three documents on the way.

On top was the official memo regarding the changing of calendar dates in the mainframe. Room inspection was still every Monday, 'Raising the bar' motivational conference was in the gymnasium and not at O'Malleys bar downtown on Wednesday and the 'Design A Weapon Contest' was being dropped in favor of the 'Design a Bear Contest' that had been posted in its place, same date and time.

On back was the continuation of the list, "You know you are addicted to Transformers when: 14. You get out of bed and rise to your feet as though transforming, arms swinging in by hips, hands out, squaring your shoulders and lifting your head up, before dropping into a combat ready pose. 15. Someone says "here comes the twins" and you drop to the ground, looking for cover. 16. You attend car shows and space out what each transform would probably look like 17. Your favorite weapon is now tied between a sabot shell launcher and an energon sword and you would take both home if you could 18. You own a shirt, jacket or baseball cap with an Autobot logo (against NEST rules and confidential requirements)

Prowl examined the next document, unsure of the humor the sketch represented. What appeared to be Megatron, wearing a black pointed hat was stirring a large black cauldron, while Decepticon jets, with leather wings and long curved monkey tails were in the air surrounding. "Hmm, let me search the net. Wizard of Oz identified." Switching to the Autobot data uplink, he paid the buying price for the movie, downloaded it then watched at super speed. Two point four earth minutes later, his optics brightened and he looked at the sketch again. "I'll get you my pretty and your little dog too. Heehee."

"Prowl, you all right?" Jazz asked from the doorway, surprise and concern in his vocal tones. He tilted his head considering how the security officer jumped before regaining the normal rock steady composure.

"Human humor," He said, handing the sketch over. A snicker later, he got the sketch back, sliding it under a data pad, intending to add it to his private collection once alone.

"Hear the latest trick the twins pulled?" Jazz asked, sitting down in the metal Autobot sized chair across from the desk, sipping on the energon container he carried.

"Now what?" Prowl pinched the bridge of his nose plate, glad humans had at least one gesture to demonstrate exasperation so succinctly. "I would have thought Arcee and their last punishment should have taught them better. Tell me it didn't involve Sam or Bumblebee? Or Mikeala will offline them and Optimus would gladly help."

"Nope, prank on the newer arrivals. Convinced Blurr and Kup that when Major Lennox said he lost his train of thought they should go find it. Blurr checked three train stations before Kup discovered it was a phrase and not an event." Jazz explained.

"They should know better."

"The twins?"

"Kup and Blurr. Especially Blurr. The twins, either set delight in choosing him for their pranks. Soon as he slips into recharge publicly, they paint, cover or glue him. No respect for his recharge issue."

"Tell them who his femme creator was. That will stop it." Jazz said, sipping energon.

Memory banks were searched and cross-referenced as Prowl sought the answer. _Data not found_. He looked at Jazz, noting the mech's smile. "Who was she?"

"Ask Prime. Better yet, have him tell it when the twins are around to listen in." He finished the energon, crushing the container. "Nice talking with you Prowlie."

"It's Prowl." He reminded frostily, blue optics glaring. "Your unique perception of situations and former mercenary acquisition skills are an asset to our combat team. But your continued habit of disrespect is reaching intolerable levels."

"I steal and see what you all don't, you mean." Jazz laughed, chucking the container against the wall, ricocheting it into the trash. "And my razzing keeps you from logic looping into the pit. Later Prowlie." He shut the door, able to hear the yelling through the door. 'Two for the cool bot, zero for the rule bot,' Jazz chuckled.

_152. Do not let the humans handle our subspace technology. They spill their coffee on a regular basis. Primus help us if they glitched a subspace field._

Optimus looked at Prowl, surprised at the question then saw the twins, deducing the real reason. "Her name was Starbright of Tyger Pax." Gasps of surprise met his statement. "Yes, that Starbright. The scientist who discovered subspace on a practical scale."

"As opposed to the impractical," Major Lennox joked, already lost in the conversation.

"Only space bridges or large ships could move across it and nine were lost with their entire crews. She figured out a way to access it without dangerous power overloads. We hide our weapons, spare tools and needed equipment there." Ironhide began.

"Her first experiments were held in the Temple Proper courtyard. The key was her generator flux design. As long as the fields remain apart, a door, as your language uses the term, is created." Wheeljack said, his side bars flashing brilliant white.

Sideswipe reached, pulling a silver sword out of the air through such a subspace link. It reached as high as his chest and was double edged. Then hid it back, showing an empty metal palm and nothing on his side or back plates. He repeated the sword draw on the other side then drew them both, keeping them from touching until fully drawn.

"A young bot assisting got too excited, tripping and falling across a generator while holding another. They interposed, ripping a hole that imploded the inner circle, warping and twisting space outward from there before it closed." Wheeljack continued the narrative.

"Starbright and her staff were untouched. Dozens of others were offlined, their protoforms warped beyond recognition. Two caught halfway in and out of the field were online when found, an adult femme and a youngling. An emergency call went out." Ratchet added.

"We came as quickly as we could. The femme's spark failed shortly." Optimus said, his vocal tones heavy with emotion. "The youngling was alive. He was Starbright's only youngling and none could approach her." He stopped, remembering the screams and cries of anguish.

"She recognized me as a Prime. Begged me to save her youngling. I gathered up the protoform, heading inside the Temple to the Allspark. I kneeled in its shadow, waiting." He flashed back to the quiet chamber, the weight in his arms, her rapid venting nearby and the hush from his rescue team as they watched.

::He's suffering and cannot remain online much longer. End this:: Ratchet

::Not in front of her. I cannot and will not:: Optimus answered, holding Brightspark in one arm as she draped hers across the broken body of her youngling. He called out silently through his matrix to the Allspark, 'Primus hear me. Let him join the matrix quickly. And give peace and healing to Starbright's spark.'

::Why is the Allspark glowing?:: Prowl

Blue energy crackled along its length, outlining the engraved symbols and glyphs. An arc of pure power shot between Optimus and the femme, flaring into the little mech. His metal shifted, closing and reforming the torn limbs and shattered plates. Innocent, clear little blue optics opened. "Spar'ight!" he giggled, waving little bot arms.

"He was online. Completely restored, no memory of what happened. I examined him personally." Ratchet stated.

"And everyone, err bot lived happily ever after?" Sergeant Epps asked.

"Not exactly," Kup said as the officers snickered or rolled their optics up. "The youngling was healed yes, but made faster, very fast. Took the name Blurr within the next vorn."

"Blurr is her youngling?" Sideswipe stammered, looking at his yellow twin in astonishment.

"That's why!" Major Lennox realized, snapping his fingers. "He runs fast, talks fast and goes into recharge fast! He was moving then wham! Stopped mid-sep and went into instant recharge last week, one foot still raised in the air."

"That's Blurr alright." Optimus chuckled. "Uses energon efficiently though. And our best scientists studied him but never were able to duplicate the effect."

"Does he have a sparkmate? Ow!" Epps asked then yelped as Lennox hit him up alongside the head.

"Get your mind out of the gutter! Man, what are you thinking? Asking a question like that!"

"That I hate housework! Do you know how long it takes me to do dishes? Or vacuum or dust? I'd rather fight that crazy 'Con Starscream than do housework. He could do it like that," Epps snapped his fingers. "Mess, blink no mess! Leave me time for important stuff."

"Like watching football?"

"Like packing my gear. These pockets don't fill themselves with credit cards for Pentagon calls and smoke flares." He reminded.

Med Lab - Optimus and Sam (continued)

Sam hesitated, "The cube never controlled the essence of the Allspark. Each Matrix of Leadership and the Matrix of the Primes were created of it and contained an infinitesimal fraction of its power. I mean think about it, the power to create worlds and fill them with life locked in a metal box, whatever size it took? Yah, it pulsed and created mechs here on earth but after it shrunk, in Mission City?"

"It offlined Megatron." Optimus stated quietly. "It would have been me had you not chose him instead."

"The full raw power should not have burned out Megaton's spark; it should have fried the entire city! Had it _all_ been released?" His milky white and green eyes focused on a point beyond Optimus. "The ancient Primes told me they had been watching for a long time. Nothing from them since but how could they know about us?"

"The Allspark is the link. Neither physical nor pure energy." Optimus answered.

"Not trapped in any one plane of existence. Before the large shard was stolen and Megatron brought online again, the smaller shard on my jacket downloaded a map to the ancient matrix into my brain directly," Sam continued, refocusing his bi colored eyes on the vague shape in front of him. "It burned through the floor, not releasing power when it could have. My stereo, TV, DVD player were all in my room but nothing was pulsed. When it hit the kitchen counter below, it created a room full of drones. None of them had sparks and alive yet they functioned almost identically on a smaller scale. That was no accident; it was trying to tell us it still existed. We focused on the end result of finding the sun reaper matrix and bringing you back."

"The Allspark is sentient. As Prime, one of my duties was to serve before it and communicate with it. Rarely did it ever answer. The idea to send it through the black hole, to prevent the Decepticons from gaining control and enslaving it was the last time it spoke to me." Optimus said.

"And now, the Allspark is fractured across the subspace levels. It can only connect between two of them and our existence here. It has been trying to reach me. For what I don't know!" He held his head in his hands.

"Your ability to sense our kind? Deliberate or side effect?" He asked quietly.

"I don't know. A way to sense it too? There's more. Since the accident, my sight has been improving. However, not just physical. Now when I look at you, Bumblebee, or Ratchet I am seeing glyphs of what is wrong or what you need. Bumblebee still suffers from his torture under the Decepticons and not just a broken vocalizer. You are not recharging properly. Ratchet grieves for all the death he has seen and is losing his hope and faith he needs to endure. I think I'm losing my mind in knowing all this. Please tell me I'm not Optimus," he pleaded, his eyes filling with tears. "That even one being understands?"

The mech leaned forward, wrapping one armored hand gently around him. "Your mental scans have shown a change over the last several years. We were afraid to tell you as there were no outward signs. Before and after Egypt, you wanted normalcy of a human youngling. Your race relies on tactical senses. Your view is determined by what you see, what you feel or can explain with your limited science. It is our opinion you are developing to be more like our race in knowledge and perceptions. No matter the outcome, you are my son as much as Bumblebee."

"As long as my skin doesn't become metal or I grow an alt mode, I can handle that for now." He leaned against the warm metal, feeling the strength that could crush a Decepticon yet the control to hold a pair of human glasses. "What did the Allspark do? Besides create Cybertron?"

"Cybertron existed before the Allspark as a dead orb of metallic ores. It created our race and gave us sparks, our souls as you humans use the term. Then we were made slaves under another robotic race. We freed ourselves and lived in peace and harmony. Femmes and mechs spark mated, producing sparklings. The Allspark was housed in the Temple Proper. I welded repairs once above it in the main chamber when I was still Orion Pax. It spoke to me but I never told any bot. After I was made Prime, I stood before it with the other Primes and it remembered me."

"And now it knows me. It's too powerful and massive for any one being to house, human or Autobot. What next? How do we help it?"

_To be continued…_


	40. Chapter 40 Rolling with the flow

Author's Notes: Prowl and I are back! Twin mayhem, toys, and apparently the gang here at Diego Garcia has been busy judging from the pile of reports on Prowl's desk. I started a new fic series – one shots, what ifs and end variations. Called "_**No where else to go**_" here on fan fiction. A Prime Elita sparkling idea started it. What if Prime had two different sparklings, then an unplanned set of twins to make four? Imagine the problems that would cause! I thought of how, with medical and scientific reasons and why the other femmes would have sparklings too.

Problem is, once you discover that world, you're stuck with it. You can't have sparklings everywhere then a serious discussion on having a first sparkling then a comedy piece when the first sparkling is born or what happens when he /she gets lost among humans for a few hours. So the mass sparkling idea got moved to "No where else to go." And I will be adding chapters that don't fit here but are not long enough to be their own fic either. Anything or any bot could appear in that series.

Military desert camouflage is nicknamed cookie dough for its browns, tans and dark spots. Not the usual green and black people think of for camouflage. Watch both TR movies to see. In addition, please keep all arms, feet and weapons inside the marked areas when using subspace and keep the reviews coming. Onward to landing on your feet at least.

CybertronCybertronCybertronCybertronCybertron

_139. Do not assist in the removal, capture or relocation of wild animals from Diego Garcia or other NEST sites, back to their native habitat. Let human fish and game or wildlife experts handle the situation. Liaisons, budget personnel, congressional aides and the Witwicky dogs are not classified wild animals. *S_ideswipe, Sunstreaker, Skids, Mudflap and Hound

::Who is this human and why are we stuck with him?:: Sunstreaker

::A budget reviewer, over eater, and our punishment for Major Lennox getting caught in our last prank:: Sideswipe reminded, watching the male human crumple yet another cheeseburger wrapper onto the pavement before pulling a fresh one out of the bag. Locals were use to rude tourists, giving the matching yellow and red Corvette vehicles an appreciative glance while ignoring the man wearing the multi colored shirt and black saggy shorts around his ample belly. His name and background had been given that morning but neither twin had listened. Not until Optimus assigned them to escort duty.

"You will accompany him off the island, to the main research storage on the mainland, carry him and the appropriate files back here without incident or injury," Prime ordered. Neither twin had objected since the brig was being repaired from Ratchet breaking out of it. Fall rains had started and locked outside all night in alt modes was not good recharge time.

::It was supposed to be Sam not Lennox that triggered it:: Sunstreaker said, wondering how much trouble it would be if he suddenly reversed, leaving the budget reviewer leaning on his hood without such support.

::Count your energon chips Prime and Bumblebee never figured that out! Since Sam's accident, they are worse than an over wired femme on protecting him. Lennox was bad enough. Worse, his sparkmate Sarah Lennox arrives next week and she promised to deal with us upon arrival:: Sideswipe

::I'd rather her than this slob. He's wearing as much as his lip plates are pulling in. We can't transform here either. Too many humans to see. Public fountain anywhere in optic range?:: Sunstreaker

"Smart beings you both are." The budget reviewer began. "Heard you pull pranks. Got kicked off the island but I understand." He squeezed more ketchup packets out then slopped the fries through. "First job was working six months at a Mcgreasy burger joint. Learned a valuable lesson I have followed ever since."

"Hard work and patience gets you ahead?" Sunstreaker vocalized externally, not caring if any humans heard.

"Take a job where you advance by hopping over someone else or turning him or her in to be fired. Still eat the maximus Mcgreasy with extra sauce. Doc tells me to cut back, that I am taking ten years off my life. However, the last ten years are the worse anyways. Who wants them?" He sat the burger on the hood, ignoring the way the metal shape shuddered. "You two, you understand that principle. Move up by kicking others down. They think you have their back," He crumpled another wrapper and began unwrapping the last one. "Only they are your next target."

::Is that what he thinks of us? I say dump him in the bay:: Sunstreaker

::Our pranks might seem that way to an outsider. And we have not been the best teammates lately:: Sideswipe

::We are the best on the battlefield:: Sunstreaker

::And when not fighting? In the brig or fighting with the others?:: Sideswipe

The budget reviewer picked up the wrappers, burping loudly before waddling to the trash can. "A few more years and you could be like me. Head of the department, power and fear and no one around to bug you. I'm going to request you the entire week I am here. Help me remember the good old days." Neither mech answered, an idea beginning to form in their processors.

They returned to Diego Garcia without incident. The following morning both mechs were called into the main hangar, arriving in their bi pedal mode. Prowl glared at his favorite twin nightmares, allowing anger to show on his normally calm face plates. "Why?"

"He left greasy fingerprints down my hood! And ketchup on my door!" Sunstreaker wailed.

"That still doesn't mean you kidnap him from his bed and drug him," Prowl said, raising his volume as his system temperature began rising.

"We didn't drug him," Sideswipe corrected.

"He sleeps like a mech overdosed on old grade star strap energon. A 'Con attack wouldn't wake him. Though his snoring woke half the base." Sunstreaker added.

"Strip him down to his underwear," Prowl was almost shouting. "And dump him in a fast food restaurant at four in the morning! What did you think you were doing?"

"Returning him to his native habitat?" Sideswipe quipped.

"The end result was reckless and endangering to a human assigned to our care. Have you anything to say?" Optimus said.

"Whatever it is, we accept full responsibility for our actions," Sunstreaker stated.

"We will abide by your judgment. We've earned it. You have always been fair, more than any other commander would have," Sideswipe affirmed.

Every bot stared at them, waiting for the other foot pad to drop. The twins stood there, doing and saying nothing.

AUTOBOT EMERGENCY FREQUENCY

::The twins have glitched! Main Autobot hangar:: Ironhide

::Now what?:: Ratchet

::Pulled a prank. Accepting full responsibility and not objecting to their punishment:: Optimus

::Evacuate the humans. Make no sudden movements or approach or make physical contact. I'm on my way:: Ratchet

_141. Do not repeatedly bring up past incidents to humans that carry considerable emotional attachments, especially negative ones. Their memory cores are limited and easily corrupted but certain incidents they deliberately want to forget even as we store them for thousands of years._

"How's the vision kid?" Major Lennox asked holding up three fingers as Sam approached. The young man finished climbing the stairs to the main communications platform level.

"Seeing a lot of ugly men wearing outfits that look like Mikeala's cookie dough after leaving it on the counter for a week. Other than that, not bad," he joked, thoroughly sick of that question. His eyes had returned to their normal coloring but the question was still being asked. "Your nails need cleaning and you have smudge stains on your fingers. Fighting the copier again?"

"Just checking," Lennox waved his hands. "You gave us a good scare. And I changed the toner in the fax machine, not the copier."

"Is Bumblebee around?"

"Hey, if you need a bath I can throw you into the pool just as easily," Sergeant Epps commented, looking up from his laptop.

"Logical solution to a unique situation," Prowl added. His black and white wings doors straightened out to their fullest spread, indicating his amusement. "You needed cleaning, and your refusal to cooperate left him little options. Wheeljack was more than cooperative to add a kiddy pool to Annabelle's sand castle. Deep enough for play activities without the chance of drowning."

"And so many nice bubbles," Epps snickered, holding out his camera phone, the image of bubbles everywhere with a vague yellow shape holding a humanoid shape wearing shorts.

Sam groaned, wondering if anyone didn't have a copy of that photo. "I was trying to teach Bumblebee a lesson."

"I'd say you were the one schooled Sam," Lennox laughed. "Ready to watch the Autobots learn? Running the obstacle course today against Sideswipe, their best."

_151. Do not assume that surviving the last battle equips you to survive the next one. Humans never stop learning and improving war capabilities. Neither should we though we must never learn their lust for power and conquering._

"Ten cards for options," Optimus explained to the assembled troops. "Seven fight scenarios to be run on the obstacle course, two 'safe and sound and watch the fun' cards and one instant 'offline is better than draw this' card."

"What is the offline card this time?" Wheeljack asked, his light bars flashing blue curiosity.

"Waking up Mikeala early on a Saturday morning when she doesn't have to." He answered as the bots groaned or pretended to shudder in fear. The cards were drawn, Optimus and Ultra Magnus disqualifying immediately, volunteering to monitor for injuries and oversee the safety measures.

"Isn't that convenient?" Sunstreaker asked. "Two mechs most capable of a real fight against Sideswipe."

"You for or against your twin?" Jazz asked, his optic visor sliding into place as he readied for his turn.

"For him to win like the last twenty-four times. Credits are nice but the odds are too even today." His yellow form reflected the sunlight as he posed holding an imaginary stack of credit chips.

Two cards remained undrawn and were shown to their relief, the Mikeala card still in Optimus armored hand. Sam rolled his eyes at Bumblebee who folded his hands behind his back, pretending to whistle.

The Arcee tri cycles were up first. Elita gave them last minute instructions before rejoining Optimus on the sidelines. "My bet is on the girls."

"Sideswipe beat them three times in the last orn. Only Chromia scored, wiping out a tenth of the course and five human simulacrums at the same time using live weapons fire. Found a way around the security locks," Optimus reminded. "My bet is on Sideswipe."

"How about a personal bet then Prime?" She leaned against his blue plated side.

"You do my bidding for a week femme, when you lose?"

"Deal. Reverse if the girls win." She pretended to vent deeply. "Energon hand delivered each morning, waxing down my alt mode, oh yes, this week will be fun."

"Race isn't over yet Elita. Never predict the battle's end." He intoned, optics twinkling as his processors though of duties for her to do. Sideswipe swung a sword, showing his readiness then disappeared into the course. "Rescue ten humans marked with blue, miss the rest and capture the Decepticon Starscream without being offlined. Ready, go!"

The tri cycles transformed into their motorcycle alt modes, splitting different directions. Monitors showed their routes as well as the explosions and moving targets to simulate a block by block city fight. Arcee and Flareup rescued the humans tagged while Chromia hunted Sideswipe back and forth. His jump up and over a structure nearly cost her the game.

Growling, she scrubbed at the blue paint splat on her legs. "Starscream is just as cowardly but I would have detected his targeting lock. Fragger Con can't shoot and who gave Sides' a paint blaster? If I wake up another color he's offlined!"

Arcee and Flareup signaled their return to the course and the hunt began in earnest. Less than half the clock time had passed and all three had paint splats. Arcee folded down to her cycle mode and disappeared from sight. Flareup spotted the mech, charging and missing him by the barest inch. He landed, lining up for a spark shot when Chromia grabbed his blaster, spinning it around and down. "Do they make these for mechs?"

His eyes flashed red as his swords dropped into place. She tossed the gun into the air to Flareup, his optics following it as it fell back into her hand, never looking for the third cycle.

A click sounded as Prime's old rifle, Elita's favorite weapon tapped his back head plate. "The blast won't offline you permanently but repairs will be messy," Arcee warned. "And I would hate to return this to Elita messy."

"I thought it was his job to be the best." Epps said in the hush.

"I'd say he just got a pink slip," Elita smirked.

**The Allspark and Primes (continued story arc)**

"Cover is a tanker leak. Media is keeping clear, place is pretty deserted and the electronic jammers are on." Major Lennox shouted. "Battle here in Mission City was five years ago. Not much has changed. Government rebuilt the area but the stores closed or never opened." He gestured to the vacant structures, boarded up windows and near empty streets.

"Sam is point with Optimus and Bumblebee. Rest spread out, standard formation and get what information you can electronically. Any Transformer says bug out, do it no questions asked. Are we clear?" The humans and assembled Autobot teams answered affirmatives. Sam shifted his shoulders, the flak vest heavy and awkward. His helmet tilted again, causing him to straighten it with a sigh.

"Looks good on you kid." Sergeant Epps said. "Full set any time you want."

"Fitted it best we could on such short notice," Lennox said but without any apology tone. "Optimus overruled the others. They wanted you armed but he and I agreed that was a bad idea. Not one piece of military gear allowed."

"None? What's all this weight then?" He grumbled.

"Your pockets are full of food. We remember last year's snow ball fight. You couldn't hit Bumblebee or Mikeala and they were right in front of you! No one is going to let you hold a weapon."

"I'm a walking vending machine?" Sam complained, opening pockets to reveal candy bars, potato chips and water packets.

"Course not Sam. The food is free." Lennox lightly punched his arm.

"Where is everyone?" Mikeala asked, Wheelie nestled against her shoulder. She had refused to leave Sam and Wheelie had refused to leave her side. The medic's uniform's red and white stood out among the camouflage NEST soldiers. Ratchet had presented it as a surprise as they prepared to board Silverbolt. "It's afternoon and four blocks over is traffic. Here, nothing. Dead silent like a scene out of one those B grade horror flicks."

"Reports indicate they left because they were scared," Ironhide stated. He had objected the most to Wheelie tagging along until the twins suggested he could be a 'blue canary.'

"Send him in first. If he is destroyed, we don't go in. He's fine, Mikeala is happy we let him help." Sideswipe had suggested. Neither the human girl nor the little Decepticon turned Autobot heard that conversation.

"Ghosts are not logical. This is a city block, albeit it in ruins not a graveyard." Prowl commented.

"Strange sounds, floating lights and power fluctuations scared everybody off. And the readings I'm getting are scaring me. Subspace overlaps and core rends." Wheeljack said, side bars flashing bright orange. "Watch your sensors."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker prodded through the rubble, joking about the aft kicking they would have given the Decepticons had they been part of the original team.

"Keep weapons hot, tempers cool and no pulling subspace weapons. Not until Prime clears it." Ironhide ordered, rolling his cannons to full readiness.

Sunstreaker turned sideways, examining his reflection in the broken glass windows while Sideswipe chucked a piece of concrete up onto a nearby roof.

"Have you been listening?" The weapons specialist confronted them.

"Your cannons have been rolling since we got here, the stripped gear in your right knee is squeaking," Sideswipe began.

"And you hip joint is still out of alignment from the way gravel is crunching underneath you." Sunstreaker continued.

"I meant the words I'm vocalizing?" Ironhide narrowed his optics.

"Uh, no." Sideswipe admitted first, glancing over at his twin.

"Should we?" He asked.

Optimus moved up beside Bumblebee and Sam, away from the twins. "One breem I wish they would not be a problem. Their brig time is my quiet time," he thought then detected a ripple in the air.

"Do you see that?" Sam pointed.

"Confirm anomaly. Wheeljack, what are...?" He began when the ripple wavered like a sheet unfolding in the wind and the three of them disappeared with a flash.

Yells, shouts and the hums of weapons unlinking filed the air. The center of the street was gone, revealing broken pipes below.

Both Autobots stumbled in the darkness as the ground below them slid. Bumblebee grabbed Sam as Optimus nearly fell with his greater mass, struggling for balance. The scout's external sensors activated faster, use to detecting threats in darkness. Jagged spires of broken walls and piles of metal slag echoed back. Sam looked up; the only light the stars overhead. Two sets of blue optics steadied then focused on him.

Optimus' internal systems were coordinating their most basic functions. Where, what and when. The gravitational lock on earth's poles failed. Systems recalibrated, searching through all known data and found a match. Computed and organized, the coordinates were flashed to the main processor. Optimus blinked, his jaw cables going slack as the data registered. He sat down suddenly, with a dull thump, shaking the area.

"Prime! You okay?" Sam yelled, trying to see more than dark shapes.

"These are the ruins of the Temple Proper for the Allspark," He whispered.

"The what? I don't understand." He tried wiggling free only to have Bumblebee tighten his grip.

"Cybertron." Bee said, the word crackly but audible through his vocalizer. "We're on *cackle* Cybertron Sam."

_to be continued..._


	41. Chapter 41 Cybertron

Author's notes: Thanks for the reviews, is good to have readers back here. The story arc with the Allspark could have been its own fic but then it becomes a saga that is ongoing and locks out other fics and ideas. It is easier to do a story arc over multiple chapters to take a break before the next part and build the story. Sides, too many twists and turns in one chapter and your processors feel like a pretzel.

And I DID research for how Cybertron could have an atmosphere and what would affect it. Way more technical than I wanted but the evidence is there. So enjoy the geek speak and get ready for the sights. Onward to new sights and old friends.

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_147. Do not try to understand human beliefs regarding intangible probabilities including but not limited to luck, karma, fate, and chance. _

"You had two sabot shells left and you attacked? What the frag do you think you were doing?" Ironhide yelled. The new recruit shrugged, not in the least fazed by the giant twenty foot plus alien robot yelling above him.

"My horoscope said I would reap unexpected changes from today. No way could I get killed," the man explained, steadily ignoring the bot's missing arm.

"Horoscope? The stars? You relied on the stars and how someone viewed them to keep you safe? Are you glitching your logic processing?" He yelled louder, humans nearby wincing and covering their ears. Ratchet's lip plates formed a smirk then relayed the video to Optimus.

::Is that how I look when upset? Minus the pit marks in the armor:: Ratchet

::What and why?:: Optimus replied, trying not to vent in exasperation. ::This meeting is boring but important enough to not leave suddenly unless required::

::New NEST recruit charged the Decepticons following a surprise attack. Top officers were online but stunned. He took command and fought recklessly. Ran through the ammo then charged but the team survived:: Ratchet's snort carried over the comm

::Why the problem?:: Optimus

::Ironhide lost a cannon intercepting a hit to offline them. Be breems repairing. Tri cycles damaged too. Arcee is in the best condition. She talks to the human next, will relay that video too:: Ratchet's tone was almost gleeful.

::He endangered himself or his team?::Optimus

::Both and us. Ironhide wants him tried for treason:: Ratchet

::He gets removed for additional training but not treason. Humans have different standards. Endangering ourselves or another by deliberate actions, whether or not resulting in direct offlining one of us is a crime. To them, it is bad judgment. Major Lennox will not allow that human to remain on base:: Optimus tone was firm.

::We have two phrases for the concept of murder, both unrepeatable in front of sparklings. They have hundreds of laws, defining the threat of touching to full offlining. They portray violence and pain in their entertainment, on movie screens, and in games and they argue about bringing our war to earth?:: Ironhide

::Peace both of you. We are here and we are staying. There will be time to teach death and violence are not the only answer. We fight to survive and protect but do not seek the battle. Their race is young and can learn:: Optimus

::Is it worth the risk of our discovery?:: Ratchet

::We will stay hidden and be wise in our decisions:: Optimus

::Got our lottery tickets:: Bumblebee

::Sweet! Favorite numbers have to come up this time!:: Sunstreaker

::Hah, mine are better bro! Luck favors the prepared and I prepared by running most commonly drawn numbers:: Sideswipe

::Of all the beings to be chosen their Prime, why me?:: Optimus

::Fate:: Sideswipe

::Karma to offset your brother Megatron?:: Sunstreaker

::Because you were too slow to refuse it?:: Ratchet jibbed.

::I never refused it:: Optimus stated firmly.

::Your second mistake. First was being so injured they could remake you into a Prime:: Ironhide

::What injury?: : Bumblebee

::Later, I am in a meeting. Need to focus:: Optimus sent, then closed each comm link one by one.

The human manager continued. "In agreement, the Autobots can add a paintball holo course in hangar twenty-two and a mini golf course for Annabelle and other humans past hangar forty-nine once the pavement is removed. There will be no more attempts at organizing your driving schedules. And all Autobots agree to stop choosing communications platform personnel by who can scream the loudest and testing for that ability without the applicant knowing it, especially by the twins, either set."

_Do not let our duties between battles interfere with our relationships and living. Command Manual, data link #184 *Translated from ancient Cybertronian – Primus Angelus_

_153. Do not adopt human customs including but not limited to being a couch potato, slob or slacker. Do embrace their love of life, exploring and relationships being important. _

Prowl keyed his datapad on, unlocking the security layers. As Second In Command and Chief Security Officer, data that had the potential to be damaging and embarrassing was routinely entrusted to his care. "Another orn, another dozen rules. This is not why I chose to pursue command rank. A third of these should be on the twins' private list. Strange, an unrecognized file waiting to upload?" A quick consult of memory processors indicated all uploads completed as required the day before. Blue optics closed as internal diagnostics triggered, confirming no error in data retrieval or memory filing systems.

"This update is an anomaly." Optics snapped open. He selected another data pad, linking into the first. "Mirror of upload to prevent corruption of relevant data." The short file completed, overwriting several rules then deleted itself.

_Rule 5 "Command officers shall not punish or brig mechs for creative thinking. Battlefield tactics tested in the form of pranks is a commendable use of recreational time and stress relief." _

_Rule 17 "Do not punish a mech or femme with more than five days in the brig or three days in med bay. Extended times may corrupt personality cores and interfere with relationships." _

_Rule 29 "Retaliation against mechs or femmes pulling pranks shall not be excessive or damaging to their paint jobs." _

_Rule 31 "Prowl shall get outside and not remain locked inside his office creating reports and rules. Even a prisoner in the brig has visitors. His friends miss him." _

Prowl wiped at suddenly moist optics. A quick check showed outside conditions were sunny, 70 degrees with a light ocean breeze. Saturday afternoon activities included baseball team Autobots only, human tag football, evening fish fry at Annabelle's castle and midnight smore roast on the beach.

The mech considered then closed both datapads. Rising, he added his name as catcher to the baseball roster, no team specified. The transform program to create a baseball mitt out of his hand digits uploaded as was additional information on fish fry and smore roast. He added twenty more beach chairs to the supply list with a schedule adjustment to get them there shortly. Additional napkins, a jar of antacids and four fire extinguishers were also requested and scheduled for delivery to the beach after sunset.

The Autobots assembling on the baseball field greeted Prowl warmly. Optimus elbowed Ratchet, nearly sending the medic face first into the dirt.

::Told you it would work:: Optimus

::Hit me like that again and nothing you _have_ will work again post med check:: Ratchet grumbled.

::Prime wins 10,000 credits from us both, big deal. Glad to see Prowl here without being ordered. You going to play or stand there and whine like a sparkling?:: Ironhide revved up his arm on the pitcher's mound, loading baseballs into his cannon port.

Ratchet narrowed his faceplates then shifted his outer arm plating to create a rounded bat shape. "Anyone remember to confirm shipping lanes out to sea were clear this time?"

**Cybertron – Allspark and the Ruins (continued)**

"I have got to get a new travel agent," Sam sighed. Bumblebee leaned down, optics scanning his charge, the only visible light. "I'm fine. Okay, not fine. I'm breathing air on a metal world with no idea how we got here other than I felt the Allspark telling me to go back to the beginning. Silly human me thinks Mission city beginning not Cybertron!" He practically yelled then stopped as a metal hand wrapped gently around him. "Sorry, 'Bee. It's a bit of a shock. Stars above are cool. Doesn't match anything from my astronomy class but familiar." Cybertronic glyphs flowed across his vision then faded.

"They match engravings on the lower left side of the cube," Optimus voice drifted out of the darkness. Blue optics appeared high up from the side. "That is why the Temple Proper was built here. As to being able to breathe, Cybertron _is_ a planet Sam. Surely your race has discovered planetary basics?"

"Basics?" He echoed then blinked as page 28 of his astronomy book flashed in memory. "Every planet and most large moons have an atmosphere, even if it is very thin. Atmosphere is defined as a layer of gases surrounding a planet retained by gravity," he quoted then felt sheepish.

"The Allspark is sentient. You would not have been transported to die from asphyxiation. Cybertron is larger than earth but lesser density. The temperature is cooler and our sun's reflective light brighter," Optimus continued.

Page 45, Earth's atmosphere flashed up. "Air pressure varies with location and time; the troposphere is mostly heated by transfer of energy from the surface, including organic life, plant life and volcanic activity," Sam remembered then saddened. "The fighting left destruction. No energon or energy sources so less heat."

"Affirmative," Optimus acknowledged. "At the height of our civilization the temperature would have equaled your desert midsummer. The pollution from weapon's fire has long since faded. No rain but water moisture is present from processing ores, turning them into metal. Even your moon has frozen water on it."

Page 47 Moon's conditions flashed up. "Earth's moon does have atmosphere, so incredibly thin it is practically non-existent with weaker gravity and lesser size and density. Water vapor boiled off and froze below sub zero temperatures, encased in rocks and crevices."

"And Sam, we have vocal capability," he reminded. "Without air there would be no way to transmit the sound. Without air, there would not be combustion for our weapons or the allowing of chemical chain reactions to assimilate the energon. We can exist on barren worlds or in space but not for extended periods of time in combat capability." Optimus finished. He sat down, a massive black shadow amid the star light.

"Your basic needs are fulfilled short term," the large mech reassured. "Gases composing the air are within tolerable limits for your race though gravity is .0457 lighter. Food and water are contained within the attire presently covering your frame. We will protect you and are here for you Samuel Witwicky."

Bumblebee hugged the young man, and then looked up at Optimus. ::I cannot communicate with him. I text to his cell phone and the error message states 'out of normal service range':: Bumblebee chuckled.

:: I'll file a complaint with customer service. Until then, I can relay what is needed:: Optimus

"Sam, you must stay with your guardian. This is Autobot territory but nowhere on Cybertron is safe from Decepticon attack."

"Is that why you haven't used your headlights? Give our position away?" He asked, the barest trace of fear in it.

"I apologize Sam, you lack the visual capability and we did not consider that," Optimus said as both bots brought up lights. The young man blinked, looking around at the metal ruins. Everything was metal and warped, twisted as though super heated, holes and rent throughout.

"What happened here?" He gasped.

"War. Our planet was once thriving and alive. Now, this is what much of it looks like." Optimus vented hard, picking up a handful of metal shards, letting them drop between his metal digits. "I will explore and keep in contact with Bumblebee. If possible, I will contact other Autobots but we must be careful. Megatron may have been frozen on earth for thousands of years but the Fallen had loyal forces here." He rose, quickly disappearing among the ruins. Bumblebee shut down his lights, only his optics revealing his position.

Sam shivered, the lack of familiar noises unnerving. Metal pinged and twanged in the distance before returning to silence. 'No animals roaming, only drones. Probably no energon to run drones. Never thought I would miss hearing a dog barking or a car alarm.' Time passed slowly then he felt a pulse. Focusing, he honed in on it.

"Bee! Someone is coming. That way," he pointed left. "It's not Optimus. I don't know who. Duh Sam, why would you?" he mumbled then hunched down under the metal slab. Bumblebee disappeared from his vision but he tracked the scout's spark feel in his head.

::Identify self. Faction, loyalty and rank:: Bumblebee

::I should be asking you. You're the trespasser! Cliffjumper, Autobot scout and the bot to send you to the matrix:: Cliffjumper

::Well met. I am Bumblebee, Autobot scout, Prime's team earth:: Bumblebee

::You lie! Prime was lost with the earth team and the Allspark! Prepared to be slagged you lying Decepticon scum!:: Cliffjumper. Clicks sounded as unknown Autobot moved closer.

::Stand down, that is an order both of you:: Optimus sent, using his best command tone. Bright blue optics opened above them both, revealing his presence. It took a breem of explaining before the small bot would reveal himself to them both. Sam rubbed at his eyes, trying to see details in the darkness then gave up. The two scouts began comparing information while Optimus lifted Sam to his shoulder.

"He is about Bumblebee's height," Optimus explained softly. "Basic blue protoform, shield amour only and a square hovercraft alt mode. Weapons are predominantly long range. Higher intelligence, fast and an attitude problem as humans would say. His femme creator was a weapons designer, Mesayon. Offlined saving thousands before he reached his third shell. We do not mention the event in his audio range," Optimus vented softly. "He has her skill in designing weapons but not the spark to power them. They appear large but lack kinetic force. He helped discover the Decepticon traitors in our midst during Iacon's fall. Only he never stopped looking. Believes any bot is capable of turning and trusts only a Prime." The scouts continued their chirping and clicking in Cybertronian, reminding Sam of crickets in late summer.

"What type of amour is that?" Cliffjumper asked, craning forward to look at the Camaro logo on his bumper piece.

::Alt mode. Earth has vehicles that roll on the ground, soar in the air and travel underwater:: Bumblebee began explaining then realized underwater was an unknown concept. ::It is our disguise and helps us move around without detection. See?:: He transformed into his yellow and black Camaro shape.

"I like it!" Cliffjumper exclaimed. His transcanner activated, tagging the other bot's alt mode then initiated the change sequence. A flash of white light and two identical yellow cars faced each other.

::No, we cannot be identical. It will confuse the humans:: Bumblebee

"How about this?" Another flash and the yellow became deep red with black stripes splitting in the center on the hood to curve. "And what's a human?" They transformed back to their bi pedal modes.

::My earth family. Small and fragile but strong in their processing. Organic not metal. Capable of great emotion and fighting skill. Wears our symbol on his shoulder. Fought the Decepticons, was offlined, and brought back from the Primes once already. Meet my bond brother:: he pointed up to Sam. Optimus let the boy stand in his hand then lowered him down closer to the scouts.

"That thing is a human? You are kidding right? A glitch mouse would not be scared of that! She looks fragile," he noted, leaning over to see from all angles.

::It is a he as in mech. Femmes are smaller and lighter but not always. He does not understand Cybertron fully. His primary language is English. Here:: Bumblebee

::How many languages does the planet have?" Cliffjumper asked, receiving the data packet. Opening the file, he assimilated the data then sorted it through vocal and comprehension processors.

::Over 165 distinct ones: Bumblebee

"How the frag do they communicate and get anything done planet wide?" He complained as systems bogged down trying to understand the complex language and all its variations.

Bumblebee's processors spun, trying to provide an answer without further creating confusion by explaining no one country or area really agreed on anything on earth. Then he noticed Cliffjumper start and stare at him.

::What?:: Bumblebee

:You're....you're.....you're...." He sputtered.

::Was the file corrupted?:: Optimus sent as he regarded the mech's sudden odd behavior. Sam was lowered to the ground then stood by Bumblebee. If things went wrong, Optimus wanted the boy clear of his rifle fire.

::No, latest virus firewall protection included. Standard orders per Ratchet and Prowl:: Bumblebee

"I know who you are Sir!" He straightened, arms dropping to his sides. "You're the hero from Tyger Pax! The one Megatron couldn't kill! Your true name was on the end file tag."

::Bumblebee is my earth name. I meant no deception:: Bumblebee

"We are here to help the Allspark. It's physical form was destroyed on Earth but its essence and power remain in subspace," Optimus stated in English.

"No Allspark here. This area is my regular patrol, I volunteer for it." He stood up proudly. "Other bots are scared; claim the ghosts of the Primes exist here. First patrol I discovered subspace vortexes and rend fields. Know the pattern and avoid them. Or lead a 'Con into one. That worked a vorn ago," he explained, the English sounding oddly accented.

"The vortexes are accidental," Sam murmured, his eyes going distant. "I can feel the Allspark but an echo. You said the stars were the same. Which ones?"

Optimus translated the data files, "On earth, you call them Orion, the hunter."

"Any other cube markings used here on Cybertron?"

"Many," he stated, fingering the engraved symbol on his blue shoulder plating. "They were incorporated into the religion based on Primus and the rules of conduct. Used in our building structures, even our transform ability is based on the cube's transforming ability."

"You mean when it shrunk to a smaller cube under the dam? I was glad we found it before the Decepticions," Sam said then remembered something else. "To find anywhere in space you need seven points of contact. Most easily drawn by two cubes, overlapping to form a three dimensional picture of a cube. The different sides form the first six."

"What is the seventh?" Cliffjumper asked.

"The starting point where you are standing."

"Cybertron was the cube' starting point," Optimus reasoned."Is that why we were brought here?"

"No, that's not right. It came from space, we know not where," Cliffjumper corrected.

"Where you are standing..." The young man murmured. "Megatron tracked the cube to earth. It crashed ahead of him in Nevada area. It was moved and they built the dam around it. The first seven found it. Seven humans. Seven Primes hid the matrix from the Fallen. Each time seven to hide."

"Six Primes Sam," Optimus corrected.

"No, seven counting me. The ancient Primes kind of told me that." Three sets of blue optics focused on him. "The Allspark gave me knowledge to find the Matrix. It was physical within the tomb of the Primes to hide its power signature. I carried the Matrix as dust. The Fallen didn't arrive until it brought you back online after crystallizing into solid form."

"You offlined Prime? Is that why they said you were gone?" Cliffjumper asked, his tone soft and reverent.

"Not the first time nor the last I fear. Sam, is there more?" Optimus redirected the conversation back to the human.

"The Allspark was hid from all known tracking. Starscream fired on Ironhide and the others because they were Autobots not the Allspark. I fell and it triggered, then the battle shifted towards me. My hands itched for days from its vibration. Worse than the old lawnmower my dad bought at a garage sale for under ten bucks." He rubbed his hands then refocused on the beings watching him. "Seven to hide and protect. Of course!" the boy shouted. "Seven when the cube shape disintegrated into his chest."

"You two," he pointed at Optimus and Bumblebee. "Ratchet, Ironhide, Jazz, me and Mikeala."

Optimus shook his head side to side. "Jazz was offlined before the cube's destruction and restored later with the Matrix of Leadership. Ratchet did thorough scans with unchanging results. Bumblebee and I have shown minor physical changes in our Prime program coding. You alone have registered differentiations in mental and physical."

"The Matrix is tied to the Allspark essence. We had to find it. It is not just a power in and of itself like a battery," Sam continued to reason.

"What's a battery?" Cliffjumper started then the matching picture and language information file open. "Never mind"

::Megatron would be the seventh instead of Mikeala?:: Bumblebee

::Why would you suggest that?:: Optimus tilted his head, processors puzzling out the reasoning behind that question.

::You offlined and returned. So did Jazz and Sam. And Megatron. Four to go then return:: Bumblebee

Optimus relayed the concept to Sam. The human hesitated, "I never thought of it that way. However, the six ancient Primes died to protect the matrix and you were the seventh and still are last Autobot Prime. So three, unless counting you in two categories would make four. You are a mech and a Prime," he shook his head tiredly, trying to focus. "Three more to die or offline then return? I hope not. Arrggh! This is giving me a headache." He leaned back against Bumblebee's leg plating, closing his eyes.

_To be continued…_


	42. Chapter 42 Ancient Primes

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Rule 148 is an unspecified prank that Bumblebee did that is not listed yet. Rule 160 and Ironhide on Artemis refers to the fics Sparkling here on fan fic by another great writer. Not required to read it to understand the rule, only add persepective to how Ironhide once panicked when 'Bee snuck into the air ducts on the ship and went missing.

Okay, lost yet? No, more Autobots or humans will NOT offline and be brought back. That's one of those ideas someone thinks of but is a false lead. Getting closer and less technical this chapter with a favorite human making a surprise appearance to add a twist. If it was short and simple where would be the story? Onward to life's challenges and using your brain.

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_Do not assume taking out an enemy's weapons leave them defenseless. Strategy and Tactics, Prime Mesayon, data pad entry # 15 - *Translated from ancient Cybertronian. _

_149. Do not endanger Autobots or humans on the NEST obstacle course. It is for battle simulations and not pranks, especially on a femme, intentional or not. _

"Only one change ma'am. You need to turn over your main weapon," Wheeljack stated, his side bars flashing purple and orange with embarrassment and fear.

"My mind or wits? Not removable and you know it," Elita responded, subspacing the black extended rifle down her pink armored arm, pretending to reset the laser sights.

::Do I have to do this?:: Wheeljack sent frantically.

::You lost at paper rock scissors. Sideswipe and I will back you:: Ironhide

::Back me or hide back there?:: Wheeljack stared over his shoulder at the mechs waiting inside the starting line.

"Elita, this is a practice at evasion, not weapons fire that Optmus insisted on. We all are giving up our main weapons. You are another fighter, not the femme commander this run. Please?" the scientist held out his hands.

"I will lock it down but not remove it. Is Ironhide removing his?" Elita asked innocently.

"Disabled with system locks. You can do the same," he finally conceded. Prowl and Bumblebee waited for her to join their team. The other three waved before transforming into alt moded and driving to the far end of the course. The buzzer sounded to begin the drill.

All external signals and interlinked frequencies disappeared from sensors. Each Autobot transformed, determined to paint tag the other team and secure their areas. Ironhide and Wheeljack moved ahead, back to back as Sideswipe waited for who they flushed out.

"Watch the edge, don't fall in the water." Wheeljack warned as they approached mid course.

"Afraid my foot pads will rust?"

"No, water simulates a cliff or deep pit. Metal bar with padding pops up to keep the humans from drowning. Your weight would break it," Wheeljack explained.

"Down!" Ironhide yelled, ducking. Wheeljack turned to look as the paint splats caught him full chest. Elita smirked, rolling and hitting Ironhide in the legs before swiveling behind a mock tank.

Sideswipe raced towards them, locking his feet wheels and jumping. He flipped precisely upside down, releasing a handful of red cloth threaded with gold cording and silver balls on each end. It flew directly at her face.

_Non threat! Retargeting recognized chest plate gap_, Elita's systems prioritized. Paint balls released rapidly, zooming in on the target. Then the cloth touched her. Magnetic, it wrapped around her head, pulling in tight and obscuring her main optics. Pink and white arms reached up, grabbing at it.

_Systems switching to external scanning. Phzzt!_ The cloth flared, releasing its gold woven micro nanite attack. Elita stumbled. _External systems offline. Infra red scanning down. Optics blocked, redundant systems coming online in four astro seconds_. Two steps then she balanced on the edge, sliding one foot into the water pit.

The sweeper bar smacked Elita's ankles and bent around them tight, tipping her forward. Arms wind milled as systems continued reconfiguring.

CRUNCH!

The mechs winced at the impact.

"Was it supposed to do that?" Wheeljack

"Nope. Now what?" Sideswipe

"View discretion advised," sound clip played from Bumblebee. The mechs began backing away as Elita lifted herself up, tearing at the head wrap.

::Prime, we have a situation:: Prowl

::Do you know any other phrase to report?:: Optimus grumbled.

::No sir. If this is a bad time?:: Prowl

::Unless it is earth shattering or the Decepticons attacking, can it wait? I'm in med bay:: Optimus

Prowl dove for the ground, dirt exploding up with his impact mass as Wheeljack's body went flying by overhead. Energon rifle discharges kept him at ground level. 'Med bay? He'll have company short enough. They can tell him. If still online,' He reasoned, rolling to avoid the dropping form of Sideswipe.

::I'm capable of handling it. Datapad report on your desk later:: Prowl answered. He climbed to his knee plates then reached up, grabbing Bumblebee's flying form to redirect the smaller mech's weight to the side. "Careful there youngling. Hitting Sideswipe would hurt with his armor. No, stay down," he commanded, hearing swords dropping out of subspace. A silver shape jumped over them both, disappearing into the rolling dust cloud. A stray rifle blast blew out the wall nearby. The little yellow scout whistled, leaning up against the mech, cradling his foot, hiding the damage.

::Ankle strut broke again:: Bumblebee

::Didn't Ratchet just fix that?:: Prowl asked, reading damage pings from the scout's systems.

::Did. Failed again. Meant to hold my weight, not a blast from Prime's old rifle. Can we confiscate that from her?:: Bumblebee

::What do you think started this mess?:: Prowl

_148. Do not mistake a human's expressed wish or desire for true intentions. They dream, fantasize and live in alternate realties online without focusing on what is before them. _

"Penny for your thoughts Sam," Mikeala whispered into his ear as they reclined across Bumblebee's hood.

"And twenty six cents for the whole brain." Wheelie quipped. He sat on the Camaro roof, beyond their reach.

"Look Wendy, I can fly!" cartoon clip played from 'Bee's radio as the roof popped up in partial transform, sending Wheelie flying into the nearby pile of leaves.

"Bee, don't be mean. He's still learning," Mikeala said.

"Wish he would learn manners," Sam said, running his hands up under her coat. Sighing, he let them drop as she straightened and jumped to the ground.

::What do you wish for?:: Bumblebee texted into his phone.

"I thought it was to be normal but now that I have it, it's boring. Homework, studying for exams, crazy roommate and more homework. I listen to the other students and their biggest concern is what to eat or if so and so likes them," he ran a hand through his hair. "Getting that one grade on a paper they won't even remember next term. I want to grab them and tell them there is so much more out there!" The hand made a fist then relaxed, both hands wrapping around the phone.

::Reveal our secret?:: Bumblebee texted, waiting for his answer. Mikeala was pulling out leaves from Wheelie's lower strut and well beyond human hearing range.

"Never. Life is more than right now. I've been places and things that scare me still when I think too long about them but they were living," Sam admitted, sliding off the hood and standing. He faced towards the bluff, gazing out into the distance before looking down at his phone.

::Do you wish for more adventures?:: Bumblebee texted then transformed into his bi pedal mode. Mikeala glanced around looking for an attack then relaxed when he didn't charge weapons.

"I wish I knew what I wanted besides you and Mikeala. You both keep me sane in insane situations. Does that make sense?" Sam stared up at his guardian then over at her as she approached.

::After ten thousand years of fighting, who you are with is most important. Makes perfect sense. I wish to never lose either of you:: Bumblebee sent. Sam turned to the phone to Mikeala. They both hugged him while Wheelie pretended to wipe an optic.

::Nice lines sunflower. They are still going to weld your aft to trash cans when they find out:: Wheelie

::Love is forgiving. And I made it look like you did it:: Bumblebee

::You would have made a good Decepticon except you don't plan far enough. Hire-a-maid cleaned it up. Used your credit card, copied it to Leo's campus address. They'll blame him. Think we could watch the fun via webcam on Sam's computer when he finds out?:: Wheelie

_160. Do not over estimate the emotional response of a human parent to information regarding their youngling or sparkling. Remember Ironhide on Artemis 1 when Bumblebee went missing. _

"Major, we have a situation," Sergeant Epps began, striding into the main hangar. Optimus chuckled then quieted as Major Lennox glared at him.

"You have something to report?"

"Negative. I banned Prowl and the rest of my command team from using that expression. The look on your face when he said it was priceless, as I understand the phrase," Optimus chuckled softly, stepping closer to the communications platform. "Proceed please."

The black sergeant tugged at his collar nervously. "We're not sure, that is we are pretty sure but could be wrong about this. Maybe, well definitely but not completely."

"Spit it out, I don't have all day!" Lennox commanded, half his attention still focused on the report he was editing.

"Annabelle is missing," he said, getting everyone's instant attention.

"Missing as in?" Lennox repeated in a dangerous tone.

"Not present and accounted for. Twins and Ironhide were already contacted," he snapped to attention, reciting the words in standard report mode but kept his eyes averted.

"Ironhide's tracker? Is he on his way here?"

"Yes and no. He is inbound as is the Aerialbot Silverbolt. Her tracker report is being verified and we should have confirmation shortly."

"Verified and confirmation?" The man went nose to nose with his second in command. "You tell me where she is now," his eyes glinted with the steel of command and the restrained violence of a father teetering on the edge of losing it.

"On a plane to Antarctica via a layover in Alaska," he answered softly, finally meeting his eyes.

"WHAT!"

"Calm down, calm down," Optimus stressed, raising both metal palms outward. "Silverbolt is inbound and will arrive shortly. We can load and be there supersonic to retrieve her. How did this happen?"

"She was playing by the new mini golf course we're making. Security cameras recorded it all. Wandered over to the loading hangar. Cameras show her carrying that Rufus doll and her backpack up a cargo ramp. The men loaded one more pallet then the door closed and the plane taxied. We tried contacting the pilots but no response on finding her. The hold is pressurized but packed. It has to land to move boxes to find which one she is in. They tried yelling but if she was sleeping…" he trailed off. Lennox had collapsed in a chair, holding his head in his hands.

Tears were in his eyes as he looked up then swallowed, assuming his command non-expression. "This doesn't go beyond this hangar. I will retrieve her using Silverbolt. Officially we are a classified training exercise on a Hercules jet."

Ironhide in his black Top Kick GMC mode raced into the hangar, transforming and flipping into his bi pedal mode in front of Optimus.

"I have where but not how she is. Anything?" Ironhide asked, his tone bordering on rage and near panic.

"Her condition is unknown. Silverbolt is descending now. Will is going to retrieve her with you, Ratchet and myself," Optimus answered. He knew better than to deny him or to voice the thought if she was damaged or offlined, it would take them both to control the weapons specialist in his rage and anguish.

Several hours later found them waiting in Alaska, the human cargo jet landing on the main runway. The Transformers remained in their alt modes, Major Lennox standing among their holographic drivers. "I swear, I am going to blister her buns enough she won't sit for a week," he muttered then frowned as Ratchet's holographic med core technician stepped in front of him.

"Any attempt at injury to her and I will secure her in med bay and sedate you in the brig. Physical punishment is not to be applied to that youngling," he hissed, blue eyes going red as his holographic image wavered. Ironhide's image cracked its knuckles as the alt form rocked on its axles.

"It's an expression. I have never paddled her. Sarah would have my hide if I did," Lennox explained, a frown on his face.

"Me? Why would Sarah have me?" Ironhide's hologram asked.

"Hide as in skin Ironhide. She would have my skin for….never mind. Another human expression," he said then began striding towards the waiting plane.

"Located," Optimus exclaimed. "Second pallet in, top row."

Ratchet confirmed the location. "In recharge but full functioning indicated. Returning online now."

The plane was quickly unloaded to that specific pallet, the little girl answering when Lennox yelled her name.

"Help! The lid won't open!" her muffled voice came from inside.

"It's latched!" he yelled, unbolting the pin and flipping the lid back. Annabelle kneeled in the middle of a group of arctic coats and winter gear.

"Daddy!" she began crying as he lifted her out. The explanation was short and simple while Ratchet scanned her by his alt mode. Curiosity and playing pretend with Rufus had created the mess. The arctic coat box was open and they had pretended to play dress up when the lid had shut, locking them in. The plane had taken off and she had gotten warm and sleepy. "Then you found me!" she cheered, looking at her friends. "Where are we?"

"Alaska. We are going home and you are grounded for the rest of your life! You are never going anywhere without being attached to one of us? Clear? And I will tell mommy, not you. Eventually," her dad instructed, ignoring the way the Autobots snickered.

AUTOBOT FREQUENCY RELAY TO DIEGO GARCIA

::Annabelle is located online and unharmed. Returning shortly:: Optimus

::Sounds like me as a sparkling. I snuck off too:: Bumblebee

::Only once on that space station did you get past all of us off ship:: Ironhide

::Once? No, three times in that same vorn. You only caught me that once. Bluestreak snuck me back the second time and young Fireflight the third. He'd snuck off too :: Bumblebee

::What! You're grounded! No leaving base unless with Sam and Mikeala until I return youngling! Then you are going to explain in detail what happened!:: Ironhide raged, his entire frame rocking on his axles.

"And you wonder why I don't encourage sparklings," Ratchet mumbled.

**Cybertron – Allspark and Primes (continued)**

"Sunrise soon Sam. You will be able to see," Optimus encouraged, uncomfortable at the boy's silence. Cliffjumper and Bumblebee continued their discussions about earth culture and the status of local forces on Cybertron, switching between English and Cybertronian.

"Not sure I want to, no offense," Sam said. "My mind pictures this great shining metal world. The Allspark communicates only with glyphs. Do you know what Iacon means in the old language?"

Optimus held one massive blue armor fist against his chest as though in pain. "I do. The Matrix of Leadership conferred history, languages and memories of those who carried it before. The third Prime founded Iacon. There is no word for it in English is there?"

"No. Not even close to the beauty of it. Once we are home, can you show me what this looked like before please? I want to see it as it was, not now." He pleaded, looking up at him.

"I promise Sam." His regal baritone enforced the purpose behind the words.

::Transmission received. Teams inbound, more responding to the call:: Bumblebee

::Decepticons might show too. And those 'Cons you can't recognize:: Cliffjumper

::Not on my team. I have ways of knowing:: Optimus reassured.

::Really?:: Bumblebee sent over their personal frequency.

::When you are Prime, you can bluff. Until then, hush. You'll spoil the image:: Optimus winked one optic at his youngling.

"Too bad we can't ask the Allspark or the Primes directly," Cliffjumper stated in English, glancing down at Sam.

"Perhaps there is a possibility." Prime murmured, optics fading as he ran internal computations.

Bumblebee held Sam fractionally tighter, suddenly nervous for his charge. The little bot trusted Optimus as both Prime and his mech creator. But thousands of war experience, even his own capture and the torture that followed, had taught Optimus did what was needed, regardless of personal cost. And risking Sam again was not what Bumblebee wanted to endure. 'But I cannot refuse a direct order either. Nor will he.' He looked at Sam and knew.

"The Matrix of the ancient Primes was retrieved. If Sam were to hold it, while I cross linked it to the matrix I carry within my chest, it may provide the path needed." Optimus explained, removing the ancient silver dagger like matrix from his hip shielding. The blue core barely sparkled in the deep night. Sam reached for it, gasping as it flared to life, bright blue rays shooting out its sides.

"It remembers me," he said, holding it tightly as it subsided. Optimus held his hand out, letting Sam climb onto the palm. Silver connection cables slid out of the wrist like snakes then settled one on the blue core of the matrix, the other waved in the air. Its end transformed into three prongs.

"These carry no electrical charge and I need you to relax Sam. The connectors will touch your scalp without pressure or pain. Think of Mikeala."

"Why her?" He stuttered as the prongs settled into his hair.

"Human brains do better with positive thoughts and love is the most positive of all," he explained while sending instructions to the other mechs.

::Bad idea Optimus. Being in stasis? What happens if we are attacked?:: Cliffjumper protested.

::I have faith you will handle it:: Optimus

::Must I shock him? He trusts me!:: Bumblebee

::To reach the part of the brain needed yes. He will not see nor remember. The sooner we solve this, the sooner he will be safe back on earth:: Optimus

::Forgive me Sam:: Bumblebee closed his optics, targeting systems locking in and releasing a low level static charge. The boy slumped, held up by steel digits and the connection cables.

Silver mist wavered, thinning as six gigantic shapes moved closer. "You came," The first prime intoned.

""Thought hey, visiting the sights why not stop and see the relatives?" Sam joked.

"The need is great and the danger ever present," the tallest Prime added.

"There is never a time without danger," Optimus vented softly.

"Can you help us with the Allspark?" Sam asked.

"Your guess was correct. Seven to protect, both races. Orion Pax who was chosen but did not chose to become Optimus the Autobot Prime, Samuel James Witwicky the human male Prime chosen by the discovery of his grandfather, Jazz the thief who sees what others cannot, Ratchet the medic who sacrifices his life for others to live, Bumblebee the hope of his generation and the link between, and Ironhide who guards and protects.

"That's only six," Sam noted. The Primes all pointed past the boy and Optimus.

A soft giggling made them turn around. A very familiar little human girl with bright eyes and blonde ponytails stood there in her pink flannel nightgown, hugging a Rufus toy.

"Annabelle?!"

_To be continued… _


	43. Chapter 43 Annabelle Prime and Rufus

Author's Notes: Thanks for reviewing last chapter and others you may have missed earlier. How long will this go for? As I stated before, as long as you keep reading and laughing. Reviews are love and let me know the humor is right on.

Chapter is a mix mash of rules and situations. Sideswipe is _NOT_ the mech creator of the sparkling. He is a little disorientated and who is the mech may be revealed later. Onward to exciting journeys and not knowing what's next.

TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR

Prowl received the transmission, rapidly computing a list of alternate bots to retrieve Mikeala. "Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are in the field with Hound. Mirage and Jazz are assisting Wheeljack while Optimus is with Bumblebee and Sam." He accessed med bay records, seeking status updates. "Two of the tri cycles are listed in repair mode but Arcee is free." A quick review of her file showed a competence in handling humans. A single line was appended to the warning section. _"Arcee retains driving control. Humans refuse to ride with her more than once. Be advised."_

Prowl disregarded the warning. "Humans keep the illusion of control when driving us. Their inferior reactions would result in offlining if they truly drove." He forwarded the request to Silverbolt and Arcee then texted a reply to Mikeala to be ready, her ride would be there by sunrise.

_161. Do not endanger human passengers by demonstrating advanced skills, technology or through reckless disregard of their fragile nature. They place their trust in us and our programming. We must not betray that trust. _

Mikeala gulped the coffee, wiping her lips with a napkin before grabbing her purse and shop keys. "Coming Arcee," she yelled, locking the door. One hand grabbed up Wheelie in his truck alt mode as she jogged for the street. He got strapped with bungee cords to the back of the seat. Mikeala snapped on her helmet, lifting feet onto the pegs as the pink motorcycle balanced itself, engine roaring to life.

"Sorry for short notice. Hound went with a field team to check on a possible hot entry landing. Chromia is in med bay for a weapons refit," Arcee's voice explained through the helmet speakers. They peeled down the road, Mikeala tightening her grip. Early commuter traffic began appearing as the sun rose.

"This traffic may slow us down," Arcee griped, turning onto the main two lane road through town.

"No problem," Mikeala said, knowing sensitive bot hearing could detect her heartbeat over the traffic sounds. "Oh man," she gasped as they whipped out and around a semi tractor-trailer at incredible speed in the wrong lane before dodging back in, narrowly missing an oncoming city bus. The transformer revved her system, passing the next two cars on the right side of the fog line before ducking back into traffic.

"Once we hit the freeway I can really fly," Arcee cheerfully stated.

"Great," Mikeala answered, holding the handlebars tightly. 'This is a not a motorcycle but a transformer,' she told herself mentally. 'Fighting for thousands of years, expert at ducking and dodging. Prime would offline her if anything happens and she knows this. I know this. Always liked the fast rides and roller coasters growing up. This is one with a little more... I'm going to die!' She thought as the delivery truck pulled out right in front of them at the crossroads. The high pitched scream in her ears matched the one in her mind.

Arcee locked her back wheel, smoking the pavement as she flung her entire chassis sideways, tilting them. Mikeala blinked as the side of the bike transformed into an arm, the transform noise lost in the squealing of the brakes. It scraped on the pavement, keeping Mikeala's leg from contact with the fast rushing asphalt as they slid. The van's underside passed overhead, then was gone as Arcee balanced back up, continuing on their way. The arm transformed in as they revved down the road.

"You okay?" The human girl shouted, adrenaline raising her voice.

"Fine, lost paint. Never dinged the armor," Arcee's voice replied via the helmet.

"You sure?"

A cheery laugh sounded. "Sure! I've lost more paint than this sparking with Hot Rod!"

"Ewwww," Mikeala groaned, feeling her breathing and heart rate slowing. "TMI! Too much information."

"You didn't have to scream. I knew what I was doing," the femme continued.

"I thought that was you! Then who?" Mikeala asked then twisted, seeing Wheelie in his bi pedal mode. He was curled in a ball, bungee cords twisted around his blue frame. "Poor little guy." He remained curled all the way to the air base.

The soldiers at the airfield noticed the missing paint, figuring it was a previous accident. Arcee rolled right up the ramp into the cargo area with her passengers. The door closed rapidly behind them and they were off. The control tower watched the Hercules jet soar off on a perfect flight path, missing the pilots waver and disappear back into the holographic projector. Mikeala released Wheelie from the bike, trying to coax him to uncurl to remove the bungee cords. Arcee transformed, stretching.

::What happened to your side?:: Silverbolt

::Road ripple:: Arcee

::Ratchet will not be pleased:: Silverbolt

::I'm not telling him. The girl will not. You?:: Arcee

::And find my wings missing when waking up from recharge? Hardly. You stealing the twin's wheels and hoods while they were in recharge and welding those parts into a wagon for Annabelle taught me better:: Silverbolt laughed.

_162. Do not underestimate the danger of impact injuries, especially to vital areas. Either human or transformer. Humans must be monitored for effects long term. Refer to Ratchet's guide for human injuries module upload. _

Sideswipe winced, feeling the dent in his back head plate. "Slaggin twin. Spun too fast and hit me. Should have spun one of my blades up his leg paint. And this dent in my chest side will take breems to undo. That tingle blast of Ironhide's wiped out my sensors. Half of them are still out. Humiliating." The ground moved for a second out and under before firming. Blinking his optics rapidly, the red mech balanced. "Was that Rumble?" Humans continued their base chores, ignoring him. He glanced back at the obstacle course, the other bots continuing their clean up. They wavered side to side and the mech shook his head. Internal compensators screamed warnings before disappearing. Power relays frizzed after contacting a single drop of energon. Another drop slid down onto the memory core, its acidic nature beginning to corrode the top seal.

The red mech stopped, waiting for system warnings to appear. None did and he continued walking towards the main hangar. Halfway there he hesitated, feeling an odd pulse in his spark. Bumblebee noticed his odd movements the same time as Skids.

"He got his aft whooped good on the course, those dents are deep!" the green rock mining mech teased.

Sideswipe started to take a step. His entire chassis swayed before his optics dimmed and he fell to the pavement.

"He's down! Get help!" Skids yelled, his hyper-reactive optical imaging scanner processing tactical information faster than Bumblebee.

He played a TV show clip. "Dr House to the ER! Dr House to the ER! Unknown medical emergency." The yellow bot grabbed the downed bot by the shoulders, heaving to flip him over.

::Ironhide, help!:: Bumblebee sent, audio sensors recognizing the heavy tread of his guardian at a full run astro seconds later.

In the med bay, Ratchet snapped towards the door, yelling as it was forced open. "I had it locked for a reason, what happened?"

Ironhide sat Sideswipe on the nearest med berth. "Impact injury and sensor failure. Was on the obstacle course and what is that?" His optics focused on Flareup's open chest and the mini blue spark underneath her brilliant white spark.

"The reason the door was locked. Frag it! His systems are shutting down. You," he physically grabbed Ironhide and pointed at the lower chest plate of Sideswipe. "Get that metal unsealed!" The medic faced the others, ordering as his hand morphed into a welding end. "Red Alert, take care of the sparkling. Wheeljack, monitor the transfer." He faced Sideswipe, swearing softly as the exposed chest revealed blue energon covered wiring. His arm welder shut off, morphing into a glob applicator. Blue gel sealed the broken energon line, then emergency repairs began.

Ironhide watched both scenes, the medic fighting for the life of Sideswipe and the baby sparkling coming online for the first time. "For once, my weapons can help neither. I wish Optimus was here. He always knows what to do."

Sideswipe's optics flared to life, focusing on the med bay ceiling. His head turned to the side as internal systems were pinging damage alarms and audio receptors focused, hearing Ratchet. "You will be fine 'Sides. Hold on for a few more astro seconds and you can go into recharge."

The mech focused on the odd feeling in his chest and side, memory capacitors unable to provide an answer. "What happened?" he asked.

"Sparkling is online and fully functional," Red Alert cheered, holding the little bundle.

"A sparkling?" Sideswipe repeated. "Didn't know I was expecting. Wonder who the femme was," he said, falling into recharge.

Ironhide snickered, "he'll be fine. Have to share that clip with Prime when he returns."

"You out before I clip your cannons," Ratchet snarled, welding a sensor back into place. "And find his psycho twin. Mech has been throwing hundreds of messages at me over the com. Won't accept my reassurances. And," a wicked gleam appeared in his optics, "ask if Sideswipe had a femme name picked out yet."

_149. When a human asks what is raising a sparkling like do not answer:_

_a. Ten times easier than raising my spark mate. My sparkling matured, he never did. _

_b. Part joy, frustration and a lot of loving reward. *hears crash* Excuse me would you? Sparkling!!!_

_c. Like firing a weapon, you aim and hope for a blast and miss, creating a mess and try again._

_d. Being in a battle where no bot is your friend and you cannot lose and the plan failed before you started._

_e. Like climbing a mountain. Looks fun, becomes uphill, hot and exhausting then its downhill from there. _

_f. Not easy. In fact it's often quite hard. _

_g. My greatest joy and I cannot wait until they are a youngling._

_h. Not what I expected and more than I could have wished for. _

_i. Why, were you thinking of helping? They like new play toys all the time._

Optimus watched Wheeljack bounce a small spherical object down to the pavement and back to his hand. It flashed with impact, colors swirling much like the flashes of his head bars. "Pretty. What is it?"

"A ball for Annabelle. Humans bounce them and it keeps them amused," the scientist explained, still bouncing it.

"The flashing colors?" He asked, wanting to verify the safety of the item.

"Harmless chemicals that react to kinetic force. The harder the bounce, the greater the color. Near limitless." Wheeljack bounced it harder, the colors flaring before it smacked into his hand. Both bots turned as human voices screamed followed by Cybertronian cursing.

"I'll wait until called," Optimus stated. He accepted the ball from Wheeljack as he raced off to see what had happened.

The large mech began bouncing the ball, watching the swirling colors. "Maybe I should get one for Elita." He slammed it down hard, calculating its return to his shoulder.

"Prime!" Ironhide yelled and he reacted out of instinct, battle systems onlining, charging weapons as sensors sought the enemy. The ball registered as a near impact as it rocketed past his head, soaring straight up.

"Those twins are driving me fraggy! What are you watching?" The mech looked up, sensors distantly tracking a colorful sphere.

"A new satellite at this rate," Optimus winced. The ball continued into near orbit, causing widespread reports of alien sightings and falling meteorite reports. Wheeljack made several more, all less bouncy per Autobot command.

**Cybertron and Ancient Primes - Story Arc (continued)**

"Hi Optimus, hi Sam!" Annabelle waved cheerfully then faced the ancient Primes. She clicked and whistled in their ancient language and they greeted her back.

"Did I miss something?" Sam blinked, seeing her. "Why not Mikeala?"

The tallest Prime leaned down, "Mikeala's mind has become closed to things around her. She focuses on you and her feelings too intensely. Remember this?" He waved his long black metal claws and the mist showed Sam's dorm room, Alice the Decepticon pretender drone in her human teen form pushing on him, heading for the bed. He watched as Mikeala opened the door and said the words he knew by heart, "Ex girlfriend." The image faded as the fog reformed.

Sam tightened up his shoulders, arms waving as he began rapidly trying to explain. "You got to understand she flew there to help me and found her, me, us that is looking like that. However, she forgave me afterwards because hey, nothing happened. "

"Watch," the third Prime stated, another image forming. A tall blue protoform mech stood in a room, tapping buttons on a wall display. Another mech, lighter blue with rounded shoulders and hips entered the room.

"Sunchaser," Optimus said as he stood beside Sam, optics practically spinning as they watched the scene.

The femme approached the mech, pinning him back against the wall before holding him closely. Another femme entered the room, similar to the first and froze, spitting out words in Cybertronian. The image dissolved and the fog reformed. Sam looked at Optimus and guessed.

"That was you and another femme and Elita walked in?" He snapped back and forth between Optimus and the Primes.

"Elita was not yet my spark mate. Sunchaser pursued a Prime, not me. Her family was among the ruling class and I was a new Prime, still learning and adjusting," he explained.

"Look like she had you caught."

"Wrapped around me tighter than alt armor. But Elita handled the situation," Optimus pinched his nose plates with his hand.

"Got mad and stomped out?" the boy guessed.

"No," the lead Prime lowered his hand as though flattening an object. "She was enraged at the other femme. Attacked her the moment she let go of him. She understood trust and knew things were not what they appeared."

"And the fact I backed up rapidly, both hands defensive while explaining didn't hurt," Optimus chuckled. "I promised Elita that day her spark would be one with mine and I would not betray her faith in me. She promised to keep that trust unless I told her differently. I also made the rule against attacking our own forces in anger and enforced it for every bot under my command."

"She got mad about Bumblebee," Annabelle reminded. "Stomped your foot."

"I told her he was my sparkling the wrong way. She reacted before clarifying the facts. But Elita did listen even then," Optimus reminded, systems overheating and feeling flush.

"Mikeala bounced herself out of the running? Is that what you're telling me? She destroyed the pretender drone later," Sam argued.

"No, only her emotions and reactions are not clear even to her. Your destinies are intertwined but what comes next is still in flux. The choices exist between you two alone," the farthest Prime explained, his hands holding spinning spheres.

"Did you think what happened was by chance?" A deep voiced middle Prime asked, his metal head spikes rippling like feathers in a soft wind. "Major Lennox and his team survived the attack on Soccent that killed hundreds. Survived Scorponok's attack, to meet you?"

"And have the heart and knowledge to risk his career and the lives of those entrusted to him, to release Bumblebee, assist you and the Allspark to Mission City?" the other middle Prime continued.

"To fight by your side in a battle not his own against giant aliens then stay and be the connection between your military and our children?" The farthest Prime said, the spheres coming to rest in his clawed hand.

"And fights still? His daughter is guarded by the one called Ironhide. Should the worse befall you," the last Prime pointed at Sam. "You and you mate would perish together with Bumblebee. Alternatively, the Autobots fight together and they join the matrix, there would still be at least one protector left."

"It is rare that all seven would be endangered and removed in a single event," the other Prime stated. "Mikeala has earned the right as has William Lennox but Annabelle was selected by age and for the courage of her father in protecting your world and our kind. Like you Optimus and Samuel, she does not seek power, only wishing to help others."

"They talk to me at night in my dreams. Show me stuff," she said, pulling on one pigtail. "Not always but sometimes. I told Ironhide and he understands. Made me promise not to tell anyone else, especially," her voice dropped to a whisper, "my teachers or other kids. They would not understand. Keep them secret like he is a secret."

"I will have a talk with him when I return," Optimus rumbled, optics narrowing.

"Are you ready Sam?" Annabelle asked, hugging her Rufus doll close. It's Optimus like battle mask seemed to flex as the stuffing shifted with the force of the grip.

"Ready for?"

"To help the Matrix of course. Its core is here," She explained as if he should have known, stomping one foot in exasperation.

"It's here?" The boy glanced around, seeing only them and the Primes.

"He doesn't understand," she told the toy, a cross between a teddy bear and Optimus' bi pedal mode. "See?" she lifted to toy up. The blue eyes glowed with power before settling. "It's been with me the whole time. But it hurts and is broken. We have to fix it."

"How do you have the Allspark core?" Sam asked, eying the stuffed toy uneasily. Flashes of horror movies about dolls coming to life flashed in his brain.

"Rufus only holds a little of it. After Megatron was offlined in Mission City, Optimus got a big shard out of his chest. Daddy told me about it later. Said it was all shiny and glowed at night so they locked it in a special place. He took me to see it. Then Daddy had to stop two men from yelling at each other outside. The shard glowed and made me sleepy. I fell asleep leaning on the glass. Daddy found me and carried me back to my room with mommy. I dreamed funny dreams."

"The Allspark recognized an open mind and began contact," the main Prime explained. "Then moved that part of its earth bound essence into the toy."

"But Megatron has the shard. It was used to bring him back," Optimus corrected.

"The power embedded in the metal returned him to functioning. The true power of the Allspark resides in subspace and Cybertron," the middle Prime stated.

"That is how you were brought to Cybertron. But we do not know how to save it," the tallest Prime said.

"Easy," Annabelle giggled, focusing everyone on her. "When something's broke, you get mommy or daddy to fix it. They glue it back together or get a new one."

"The fragmentation is irreversible."

"Is it like a puzzle you can move and make a picture with?" She asked.

"No," the left Prime said.

The little girl pouted then smiled. "Buy a new one then. Or get it as a present. Is it your birthday soon?"

_To be continued…_


	44. Chapter 44 Unexpected Discoveries

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and shout outs in other fics. I do write each chapter as its own bit so if you are reading these straight through, yes there are parts like titles and job duties or behaviors that will repeat on certain characters.

Going to focus a bit on the new recruits coming into NEST and Diego Garcia. Mostly because I am tired of reading fics where **huge alien robots** and are so human you lose track of who is which race without double checking the name. Basic review for all of us and the new incoming.

And the story arc mentions two ancient cultures and if I get the details wrong please do not show up with torches and a mob. It's based on general research and an attempt to work it into the storyline. There is no intention to malign anyone or their history. Onward to learning and loving what you find.

NEST NEST NEST NEST NEST NEST NEST NEST

_Minor offenses earn minor punishments; great offenses can ruin the spark and processor. Choose carefully what you do. Primus Rules of Conduct # 74 *Translated from ancient Cybertronian _

_155. Do not impose corrective action on a fellow mech or femme that is excessive or cruel to the nature of the offense. We are sentient beings and know the difference between right and wrong. We should set an example for the humans. They are a young race and have much to learn._

Prowl keyed the unlocking sequence to the brig and waited. "As Chief Security Officer and Second In Command, one of my duties is to handle all matters related to the brig. Be nice if a Decepticon actually used it once." He glanced up briefly at the hand printed sign on the wall, 'twins spare quarters,' without finding the amusement in it.

Across the room, the power generators wound down, releasing the last of their energy into the confinement bars. Arcee watched the vertical bars fade with steadily blue optics. "Will you be back soon?" he asked.

"I didn't plan this time," she admitted, giving nothing away in her tone. Her scraped metal side contrasted sharply with her pink and rose armor paint.

"Assaulting a medical officer without sufficient reason, you know better." His wing doors dipped, the black and white state police wording reflecting the overhead lights.

"A little road ripple and he carries on like it's an energon line pumping full force! I was attempting to get nannites to repair my own damage. He caught me. Probably had the case alarmed. I refused his exam and he grabbed me. I grabbed him back." She explained without emotion.

"It was what happened next," he reminded. "Throwing tactics are for the battlefield, not med bay. He landed on a cart, on top of a trank injector, knocking him out. If there had been an emergency our chief medic was unavailable. "

"Should know better than to keep an item like lying around. Who turned me in?"She hissed on the word turned.

"Your damage is obvious to even human eyes Arcee," he countered, keeping his face plates neutral and calm.

"I will find out," she stated, the barest flick of red in her blue optics.

Prowl made a notation to have med bay and the brig cleaned and ready for that evening. "Ironhide taught you how to break that hold didn't he?"

She shrugged her shoulder plates, not replying verbally.

Prowl waited then turned and opened the outer door. "I assume there is an offset technique to that throw and grab. Ratchet will have learned it the next time you encounter him. For now, acquire sufficient supplies and repair your side please." He hesitated, the barest trace of distress showed in his features. "Can you stay with Mikeala? I am not equipped with the programming to handle a distraught spark mate and have other matters to attend to."

"Planned to but thank you for asking me. She can assist in repairs," Arcee said before transforming and racing across the tarmac towards the human guest quarters.

::Anything to report?:: Prowl

::No, though Elita is calmer. Wheeljack is verifying his latest theory:: Ultra Magnus

::Which is?:: Prowl

::The space jump was controlled. It was for a purpose:: Ultra Magnus

::Keep me informed:: Prowl ordered then disconnected the comm line. He leaned on the wall, optics closing as his systems cycled rapidly. "This is a situation I am unprepared for. Missing spark mates and the femmes under my command. Primus help us all."

_154. Do not celebrate human holidays by repainting or transforming our forms beyond reasonable changes. _*Twins, Tri Cycles, Optimus Prime, Hound, and Bumblebee

Arcee focused as the Lamborghini twins entered the main hangar. "Hello boys," she greeted. They hesitated, exchanging a guilty look before facing her. "New recruits are running the course and I do not want any repeats of last time. We tri cycles are off your prank list understand?" She snarled, subspacing her gun out.

They nodded, watching her stomp off the other direction, returning her weapon to its hiding space. 'Too bad you already got pranked by us,' she thought merrily, calculating another few breems and the paint would switch to the new colors.

Exactly at noon, the twins completed their course run for the assembled troops and began noticing their external paint changing rapidly.

::Are you injured Sunny? Your color is going odd:: Sideswipe leaned in, optics spinning.

::Yours is darkening bro, you play with the paints? Splash some back?:: Sunstreaker

::No! You? That femme!:: Sideswipe realized, both turning to glare at Arcee.

"Twins!" Major Lennox shouted. "You functional?" Diagnostics beeped onto his phone, showing not one system medical alert or ping. "Drive over to med bay to be checked out."

Sunstreaker transformed first, his color changing to deep orange. Humans began giggling and pointing at his hood. Rolling forward, he reflected his own image in the puddle water. Both headlights were black triangles and his bumper was all black. "A pumpkin? I'm a pumpkin!"

"Jack-o-lantern actually," Lennox corrected chuckling. Sideswipe transformed then stopped.

"My wing doors are stuck. They won't slide into place." Both stuck up vertically, tilting the barest angle out, the circuits refusing to comply with processing commands.

"A bat!" Lennox shouted before losing it laughing. Sideswipe's entre paint job was black, with his doors the wings.

"Anyone have garlic?" Arcee quipped before transforming and rolling off in her motorcycle mode, both changed twins in hot pursuit.

_158. Do not judge the human race by our values or morals. Their earth bound experiences and short life span affect their view but they can learn. _

Major Lennox glanced around the classroom of new recruits, making mental bets on who would be the first to join his team, be sent packing and who would be stuck on base for the rest of their time there as support personnel. The recruits were varied in race, age and length of military career. Both men and women were present. 'I know the pentagon picks the best, with aptitude and psychological testing but one or two always slip through.'

Sergeant Epps finished the basic introduction briefing, now it was his turn. He introduced himself, a brief background on what had really happened at Mission city, Shanghai and Egypt then launched into the details, using a power point presentation of slides to emphasize certain points.

"You will hear this repeated over and over so get it through your thick skulls," the major stressed, his eyes reflecting the strength of his personality. "The Transformers are not robots the way we are not jellyfish. We are complex, so are they. They have emotions, get their feelings hurt, are capable of love and anger, and have a history spanning over a million years of knowledge. "

Sergeant Epps stepped forward. "Their language is more than words. If I say Lilycatcher, it means nothing to you." On the main screen, a Cybertronic glyph appeared. "If you learn it is a beautiful woman, known for her wildlife skills, humor and kindness then meet her, know her and respect her then the name means something. When someone says she is a Lilycatcher, you know what that means. " Pictures formed to represent the glyph, translated as Autobot. "Their language is that and more. Every word has an association with it, good or bad. They do not use puns of double meanings and openly lying is not a concept they agree with."

Captain Jorgensen spoke up from the side, her voice like steel, "Never use the expression 'white lie' around them. Moreover, do not even think of fibbing to them. They know the instant you even think of lying. You cheat or steal and you will never see the battlefield or work with them. Or with a NEST team. Have a problem with that, there is the door."

"Terms will be covered in tomorrow's lecture but for now understand there is no direct translation," Lennox took over again. "Having said that, their profanity includes slag as in slag, slagger and slagheap. Metal based race and slag is the metal discard or run off no one wants and is useless for recycling. Frag, Fragger or Fragging refers to fragmentation. Their programming for moving one hand makes our Pentagon mainframe look like a kid's first calculator. Ever worked with html coding for the internet?"

Several hands were raised. Sergeant Epps flipped the presentation to crashing code lines. "What happens if even one part is off? It crashes right? Same with them. Fragmentation of code is an insult and implies being a slob, slacker, and the laziest kind of personality. It is not evil but implies more that our language can translate fully. "

Lennox stiffened and assumed a command look. His voice was low and calm, with the words evenly spaced. "Worse insult is the word glitch. Glitches to us are small errors. To them, a glitch means the difference between living and dying, and can result in an error that is an atrocity. Our glitches would be a serial child rapist who rips the kids apart as he kills them," he waited, hearing the men grumble disgustedly. "Now add psychopath and horrible other crimes and you come close to the intent of the term glitch. Never call them that!"

"Do they have any sexual based insults?" A blonde-haired man in the back asked.

"No. And it's sparking or interfacing not sex. Tomorrow morning's lecture on mechanics."

"Do they have religions?" The same blonde haired man asked.

"Two primarily. Not all follow either. One good, based around the Allspark and Primus with half of the Autobots honoring it. One evil referring to the dark god Unicron and the Pit. Only a few of the Decepticons follow that one. That's this afternoon's lecture on planetary basics, " Lennox stated, marking the man for further training in the intelligence division.

A red headed man in the front raised his hand. "Mech is male and femme is female. Anything we should know about the femmes? Like to treat them differently?"

"Respect them," Captain Jorgensen answered curtly. "And never piss one of them off."

"Definitely anger a mech, not a femme," Sergeant Epps added, controlling a smirk. Images of Elita firing her rifle appeared on screen followed by different femmes fighting and drilling.

"The mechs will offline you faster," Lennox said.

"Less painfully," Epps winced.

"And mechs leave more pieces to bury," Jorgenson finished.

"Really?" The blond haired man asked.

"YES!" They shouted in unison.

"Enough sitting. Line up and head for the obstacle course. Time to get physical," Lennox ordered. Arcee waited in her pink bi pedal mode form by the starting line, wanting to see who she might be working with. The humans looked at the course and tried to not sigh or moan.

"This is Arcee, a femme and one of three motorcycles you will see driving around base without a rider. Run the course, do you best while we watch," Lennox introduced her.

"I'll handle the stragglers," Arcee stated, crossing her arms, keeping her blasters pointed away from them. "And anyone injured I will deal with."

The recruits took off at a full run. They completed the course in record time, helping each other and ensured no one was injured or left behind. Several times they looked over at Arcee as she paced them along the course, pulling away and increasing more speed away from her.

Arcee merely looked puzzled. "Was it something I said?"

_170. Do not become frustrated at a human's lack of response when seeking information and do not ever use of the following human phrases when responding to a question, especially from a command officer:_

_a. Meh, do I look like a bot that cares?_

_b. Not my specialty to know that answer._

_c. You have the same processors I do, go look up the answer._

_d. That is for me to know and you to figure out. Back in my day, we found our own answers. _

_e. Funny, that was the final question on 'jeopardy for idiots' last night. _

_f. I am busy fixing my paint, ask me later. _

_g. When you find a Decepticon that wants the same answer, I will care. Until then I will be on the target range. _

_h. As a femme I help teach sparkling and youngling. You are way past that point, chassis wise at least. _

_i. Next upgrade and the information will upload. Now, not there. _

_j. I am a soldier not an information bot. _

_k. Duh, I don't know. You Skids? Nope, us neither. _

_l. Ask a human, keep them busy and out of our way._

Sam watched Ironhide destroy holo after holo of Decepticons. 'Wow, that is precision,' the boy admired. The firing ceased, another perfect score flashing on the display board. The cannons slowed their spinning, the ends glowing faintly red as the mech lowered his arms.

"This is nothing. The challenge is return fire from all directions and friendly mixed among targets. Even Mudflap and Skids could score on this course," Ironhide surprised Sam by explaining before turning around to physically acknowledge the teen.

"Impresses me. My aim is bad," Sam admitted then blushed as the old warrior rotated his head back and roared.

"Bad?" he sputtered between laughing fits, "Safest place is directly in front of you!" He chuckled then strode over, transforming into his alt mode of a GMC top kick truck. The passenger door opened, "My hip gear is locked again, I can't bend down and what I need to tell you the whole world doesn't need to hear, hop in." Sam hesitated then stepped up, grabbing the handhold for balance before swinging up into the cab.

"Kidding aside Sam, there has been discussion repeatedly on how to train you. Right now, you are not a threat. No weapon powerful to stop what chases you is manageable for a small being your size except plasma grenades or similar."

"What's wrong with those? I can learn to aim or throw, Lennox promised to teach me." His tone was earnest but his heartbeat increased, betraying his fears.

"Those weapons are small but destroy everything for fractal squares. You would die too Sam," Ironhide stated softly, his dashboard fading out, an image forming of a barren smoking crater. "Megatron and Starscream are bots Optimus can handle or me. Handle as in survive the encounter. Maybe Ratchet with one of us helping." Scenes from the Mission City and Egypt fights played before the dash reappeared.

"But not me," the boy sighed.

"No Sam, not you. A blast properly placed could buy you time but they would take it personal. Alive, we can retrieve you."

"Not squashed, stomped or fried," he realized.

"Better for you to focus on speed first and evasion second. Our technology can scan through layers of your planet's crust so hiding behind or under something is not practical unless you are in a small space. Then the 'Con will simply blast it or you away." A heads up digital display flashed across the windshield, objects in view going through x-ray, thermal, multi-color, and molecular followed by a dozen other rapid scan variations.

"Equipment to block our scanning is unreliable and unstable. Mirage alone was designed into it from his second frame onward. If the Decepticons know you are there, they simply aim for any blank sensor spot. Same for a holographic image. Your heartbeat would identify you unless you are in a crowd of humans."

"Megatron would blast a crowd wouldn't he?" the question was whispered.

"The Fallen destroyed worlds and trained him Sam. There is no end to the evil he will commit." The passenger door sprung open, a silent invitation for Sam to leave. He slid out, jumping to the ground below. Ironhide transformed back to his bi pedal mode, dialing down his cannon to its lowest setting.

"Run Sam."

"What, like right now? Why?" The boy gulped, seeing the cannon lower and target him.

"Run Sam. You never know when an attack will come. The blast will not kill you but will hurt worse than Jolt's static charges. Mikeala can apply lotion and ice later. Now Sam, RUN!"

**Earth - Mission City (story arc continued)**

Few humans moved in the run down area. Strange sounds, lights and the feeling of someone or something always watching and waiting made them hurry. Heads down, arms folded across their bodies and packages clutched tight they passed by. The red and blue car carrier was ignored as was the pink convertible sitting on his top ramp. The orange and green electric hybrids parked across the street rocked from time to time as their teen holographic drivers roughhoused with each other. In a downtown area, they were a strange sight among blocks of deserted structures.

"I'm perfectly safe on street level Magnus," Elita had argued.

"This isn't about you. I can ground, literally to the area and detect subspace fields. I need you to monitor for movement, Autobot or Decepticon and keep an eye on Wheeljack. He's so intent on his readings he's already hit that street light twice with his head."

"Maybe knock some sense into him," she grumped. Magnus ignored her, knowing distress made her temperamental.

Wheeljack muttered, adjusting the device one last time before giving up. "Whatever triggered the subspace transport field is gone." A brilliant flash had him instinctively covering his optics as battle computers came online, charging weapons. He spun around, scanning for enemy attack and found nothing. "What was that? Wait, look at these readings! Off the scale! Elita, Magnus, twins look. Elita? Magnus? Skids or Mudflap? Uhm, guys?" Their space was empty, a layer of the pavement missing. The twins curb was sheared off, the nearby stop sign sliced in half.

::NEED HELP NOW! GOT A MAJOR PROBLEM HERE!:: Wheeljack

::Calm down and quit shouting:: Prowl

::Report already:: Ironhide

::Medical or other emergency?:: Ratchet

::ELITA AND MAGNUS ARE GONE!:: Wheeljack

::GONE??!:: Every bot

::Another sub space field. Just flashed and poof! They're gone. So are the minor twins::Wheeljack

::Get clear. We're on our way:: Prowl

The flash faded, leaving both bots dazed. Ultra Magnus reacted faster, disconnecting his trailer and pulling ahead, transforming and arming. Rarely used routines reconfigured his armor for the missing weight and height reinforcement.

::Elita! You functional?:: Magnus

::I think so. Spark hurts. What happened?:: Elita mumbled, her signal fading.

::Transport. Still on earth. Configuring location now based on magnetic pole readings. No mech readings, no humans, multiple contacts of animal and flora life:: Ultra Magnus sent. As worried as he was about her, possible attack worried him more.

The jungle sounds impinged on the femme, making her aware of the heated, moist air. Initiating transformation, she transferred into bi pedal mode on her back then hopped off the trailer. Plants crushed underneath her weight, sinking into the soft mud.

"South America, Southern Lowlands, between multiple rivers. Linking to internet search now." Magnus optics dimmed then brightened. "Oh frag."

"What?" she snapped, wiping her optics. Her spark flared then subsided. Medical warnings were filed away for review later.

"Communications are down. No external links. That sub space field fried my signal relays," Magnus reported. "Nothing outbound." A quick check confirmed hers were down too.

"I am detecting a structure that way, sub space echoes all around. Shall we confirm?"

"Let me check my schedule, nope, all clear today," she joked before venting softly. "I was hoping to be with Optimus. Not this muck zone. Let's go."

He stifled the urge to hug her. 'She belongs to my brother, not me. I respect his choice. And she is not my type. Too scary.' Within four breems, they cleared the vegetation and stepped out onto a flat area.

"I know this place," he commented, comparing to internal records. "Maya civilization, collapsed during the 8th and 9th centuries and was abandoned. They stopped building monumental inscriptions and large-scale architectural construction." He noticed her stare. "Humans reasoned since their calendar ended in 2012 it foretold the end of the world. I studied the makers of the calendar."

"And?" She extended her optical range, detailing the crumbling shape before her.

"In 2012 they figured they could make a new calendar. Their calculations were very similar to our Allspark Temple Proper calendar wall inscriptions." Internal processors compared the data file downloaded recently with one of his oldest memories.

"How similar?" That got her attention and she focused back on him.

"Exact for two walls. Beyond that ours stopped. Murals filled the next walls." He turned his palm up, displaying a holographic image calendars side by side.

"Glad no bot thought our world ended when the calendar did," she commented. "Any idea how to get home?"

"None. Explore or wait?" Magnus offered the options.

"Explore while waiting for contact. Sub space fields are not random. Let's see why here," Elita slipped into her femme commander mode naturally.

Across the world, Skids and Mudflap finished checking each other's frames and relaxed.

"Nothing broke," Skids confirmed.

"Nothing' needs fixing'" Mudflap added as they began looking at where they were. "Any idea?"

"Coordinates state North Ethiopia, Tigray Region, near the base of the Adwa Mountains," Skids brought up the data.

"Mountains? Sure 'cause they look like super big hills to me," his half spark twin joked. "Since when you speak fancy?"

"Since Prowl made me upload those geography and history files. Hot Rod messed up on Eastern Europe so I got the programs next. How come you don't have it?"

"Switched it out for rock band songs 5 game cartridge dude. What I care about earth culture?" Mudflap joked, rolling his optics.

"Cause your ugly mug is stuck here?"Skids punched him, rocking him backwards.

"You is ugly too dummy, we're twins! And the locals gonna run when they see us like this," he punched back, hopping over the kick aiming for his shins.

"No locals. Area was a naval trading power 400 BC to 10th century then he culture disappeared. People live here but not here. Subspace echoes," Skids noted, triggering his tactical systems.

"How come we got sent here and not Hawaii or Tahiti? All we get is heat! Not fair! And no femmes."

_To be continued…_


	45. Chapter 45 Rules 103 152

Author's Notes: Per reader requests, here are the next 50 plus rules as completed and posted. No story arc of events behind, **just the rules in sequence**. Rules 1 – 56 are in chapter 13, rules 57 – 102 are in chapter 28 for review. This section has a lot more smart answers.

TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR

103. Do not ignore Medical restrictions through human assistance. They will not be harmed but Ratchet will deal with you, mech or femme by any means at his disposal.

104. Do not show a lack of respect to any command officer based on physical appearance or injuries, NEST or human.

105. My Second in Command and Chief Security Officer should not nag, worry or stress over his Prime. He's a big bot who can take care of himself. Or his sparkmate will kick both their mech afts.

106. Do not attempt untried battle maneuvers in actual combat situations based on human action movies and their fight sequences. You will have to deal with Autobot command Optimus Prime, weapons specialist Ironhide, Field Operations Jazz and Chief Medical Officer Ratchet. Your title will be Slag Spare bits by the time they are done with you.

107. When a human asks 'how long are you staying?' do not answer:

a. Thirty days past the last eviction notice.

b. When the United States budget deficit is erased and government spending is controlled.

c. As soon as I finish downloading everything intelligent and beautiful off the internet in art, music and literature. BEEP! Done already? That was fast.

d. When Cybertron's third moon crosses in planetary alignment with the second and aligns with Ursa Major. Missed it last time, was in the brig. Some bots have no sense of humor.

e. Until our sparkling is in their second frame. Oops! Did I say that? I want the sparkling to be a surprise tomorrow for my mech. *taps chest plates while smiling* *Nice try but not giving it away here either

f. When I find a femme as good looking as I am.

g. Waiting for my high-grade flavor of the vorn club to finish out.

h. Why? You don't really believe anything is going to happen in 2012 and want a lift off world?

i. When my femme arrives and we sparkmate and live happily ever after.

j. Until the Harry Potter series is finished and on DVD so I can take it anywhere in the galaxy with me.

k. When I have figured out the female of your species.

l. Long as command doesn't find out about today's prank or yesterday's or the day before that or the three last week or the nineteen last month

m. When they put white cinder blocks under me because the repair budget is used up.

n. Until my brother is no longer Prime then I am out of here. I am just a solider and they are not sticking me with that job!

108. Do not assume what has worked successfully for humans over time with proven results will work for Transformers.

109. Do not force or attempt to force a mix of the two races, Transformer and human. Each is distinct with their habits, customs and personal mannerisms.

110. Do not leave a fellow Autobot or NEST teammate unattended and unmonitored during the recovery stage. Especially a human. A breem of activity can undo joors of repair. *Amended 09/26/09 by Chief Medical Officer. "undo joors of repair and require ice packs for the wrench shaped bruises."

111. No humans are allowed in Wheeljack's lab. No matter whom they say they are, what credentials they flash or who they say their boss is. There are no exceptions to this rule. Do not let them in !

112. Do not use excessive force, grip or speed when evacuating a human from a dangerous situation, battlefield conditions or Wheeljack's lab. Review Ratchet's "physical limitations of human elements" teaching and upload the limits of their species if you have not already processed that file.

113. Do not acknowledge the existence of Decepticon pretenders, mini drone bots who can assume the appearance of human females, to any governmental authority, and never to Samuel Witwicky, Mikeala Banes, or Leo Spitz.

114. When a human says do you want to attend the meeting do not answer:

a. Slag no! What did I say that sounded like torture me for four hours?

b. Sure. I could use the downtime to check my e-mail and chat on IM.

c. Can I read the important parts later on twitter?

d. You talk, I pretend to listen then on the battlefield you scream and I still ignore you.

e. Sorry, my security clearance doesn't include super level boring.

f. No, I don't WANT to but do I have to?

g. I said I had insomnia, not the wish to offline by boredom.

h. Let me rip out my processors, deactivate my memory files and I should be ready.

i. See these cannons? Do they look meeting friendly? *Ironhide

j. Grounded by my femme, if you can convince her to let me attend?

k. And miss my afternoon soap operas?

l. Going to save the world, send me the meeting minutes later please.

m. Have to go to the brig. Why? Oh, so you haven't seen Flareup's new transform we gave her? How many bright green teardrop camping trailers are there on base?

n. Listening to a bunch of clueless humans is so how I want to spend my time between battles.

o. It's scheduled the same slot as anger management therapy. Which do you think I should attend fleshling?

p. Repeat "why?" until the human leaves.

q. Sam and Mikeala need me. What for? *thinks* Help them break the big news to his parental units. What news? Need to know basis. *Bumblebee via texting

r. Need to polish my armor. Appearance is important when saving your aft from big bad Decepticons. *Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.

s. You must be a pit spawned servant to ask me a question like that.

t. And they say fleshlings have no sense of humor . Rhetorical question right?

115. Do not change, interfere, or alter any other Autobots holograms unless specifically authorized by said Autobot, Prime and his command staff and resulting changes are deemed safe and have been tested.

116. Do not create and attach bumper stickers on Autobot forms. They are a potential threat to our anonymity and the meaning intended can be misconstrued.

117. Do not make unattended drones to assist in human or Autobot general maintenance chores. Humans or a mech must be present to monitor potential problems and prevent theft of the devices.

118. No reprogramming human kids toys with Cybertronian upgrades and leaving around for the soldiers to find.

119. No Autobot, under any circumstances, are allowed to pose as a government authority vehicle outside of base, even if it is to 'protect the peace.'

120. Do not confuse humans with multiple names for the same mech or femme.

121. Do not reveal our existence over the internet through e-mail, web chat, blogs or interpersonal sites.

122. Do not take offense when the humans get our battle cry wrong. Explain what it means without threatening undue harm, bodily injury or imminent death.

123. When a human asks how old you are, do NOT reply:

a. It's not the age, it is the mileage.

b. Not sure, your number system does not go up that high. Two past the computation of pi I believe.

c. I remember seeing this planet being formed when younger...

d. Why? The answer will make you feel like the mere blip in existence that your short pathetic life span is.

e. Three core processors, one spark casing spire reset and two memory upgrades.

f. Younger than Jetfire, older than Optimus and same as my spark mate Chromia. *Ironhide

g. We count experience not age for respect. How about you? Been to many other planets?

h. Fourth frame and a normal alt mode. You have an alt mode yet or still choosing a design?

i. I told you that yesterday and the day before that when you asked. Don't you remember?

j. I woke up on this side of the matrix so not old enough to offline yet.

k. Confidential information covered under treaty act 'do not harm humans for stupid questions.'

l. Mechs already know, femmes don't care and I drink high grade. What does that tell you?

m. Old enough to fight, create a sparkling or spark mate. And you human, are so not my type even if you are over twenty one, interspecies prohibited and no, that is never what the holographic drivers are for.

124. Do not try to assess human emotional states, especially those related to love, anger or both at the same mate or attached partner. Sparkmating is rare and virtually unknown among their race. Listen and do not take sides, referring each or both to human medical staff, chaplain or counselor. Never Ratchet.

125. Do not leave restricted information unsecured or easily compromised by humans, friends or enemies.

126. Do not refuse, hide or attempt to evade Autobot Command when creating a prank or acting it out and they ask. In addition, warn them of potentially hazardous, to human or Autobot, confiscated equipment in their possession.

127. Do not underestimate the human need for revenge, irregardless of the severity of end result of the original prank pulled on them.

128. Do not demonstrate to humans the right or wrong way to release any substance that is hazardous, dangerous or irritating in chemical, solid or mist form.

129. Do not assume humans will move or acknowledge our presence. They are easily distracted from their surroundings to the point of serious injury or offlining by ways a sparkling would recognize as dangerous.

130. Do not take human's reassurances they are alright when injured. They lack internal scanners and repair systems to self diagnosis injuries and medical conditions. Refer to Ratchet's human first aid and treatment modules as well as NEST medical guides.

131. Do not discuss sparking, spark making or sparklings with human females. It is a complicated subject with intense emotional connections for their species.

132. Do not get upset when a human makes a commitment and breaks it. They are a young species that believes in untruths, unfulfilled agreements and broken promises. That does not excuse us from keeping our side.

133. Do not assume low level human technology, their lack of experience as a race, or fragile biological nature makes them less of a threat than the Decepticons.

134. Do not take photo images of the humans for any purposes not approved and never of children, sparklings, or younglings without parental permission or Autobot command review.

135. Do not assume one time of telling a human 'no' is sufficient denial. It may take a negative response in a variety of forms for them to understand.

136.___Do not discuss personal Cybertron relationships and past experiences with the humans. Their curiosity is endless and even a simple remark may be taken as perverted or inviting. No living bot would mate with them. They may try with us._

137. Do not let concerns for safety interfere with our ability to fight. Humans require it; while important it can become an issue in wartime.

138. Do not enter human contests using our advanced technology, skills and methods to win.

139. Do not assist in the removal, capture or relocation of wild animals from Diego Garcia or other NEST sites, back to their native habitat. Let human fish and game or wildlife experts handle the situation.

140. Do not fail to engage holographic drivers as needed. Humans are quick to believe the idea of a killer or possessed car when seeing us function on our own.

141. Do not repeatedly bring up past incidents to humans that carry considerable emotional attachments, especially negative ones. Their memory cores are limited and easily corrupted but certain incidents they deliberately want to forget even as we store them for thousands of years.

142. Do not let humans intimidate, attempt to control, blackmail or command you to any action or forbid action not approved or ordered by Autobot Command and NEST approved officers.

143. Do not ask humans about previous mating relationships they have had. It is an intensely complicated subject and may involve hurt and emotions we are not equipped to handle or understand fully at that time.

144. Do not assume human safety precautions insure safety to themselves or our race. Their knowledge, perceptual scope and reaction time is severely limited.

145. When a human asks if you are ok / are you hurt do not answer:

a. Do I look slaggin okay?

b. My chassis is here but my arm and leg are there. Mind using your brain to retrieve them and not to ask dumb aft questions like that ?

c. Lovely day today. Thought I'd lie here and watch clouds go by for awhile.

D .I always *pant gasp* sound so *wheeze* on the battlefield.

e. No, I'm fine. *pretend to faint and take optics offline* *Sunstreaker

f. Do not jump up screaming after pretending to be offline and the humans are poking you. *Sideswipe

g. You bleed red and I bleed blue energon. What color is this?

h. I'm not okay. My femme left me, my aft got kicked by Decepticons and my last optic view might be you fleshling! Primus hates me!

i.*cry and pretend to leak optic fluid* My paint is all scratched! *Sunstreaker

j. No, you must carry on.*hand them your energon sword, knowing they can't handle the weight*

k. That left a mark. No, a huge burning hole all the way thru so yes it hurts!

l. I think I'll feel that tomorrow. Wait, I feel it now! Ow! Ow! Ow!

m. Whatever the opposite of ok is, that would be me right about now.

n. Ratchet is yelling at me, you are holding my hand so what am I missing here ?

o. I was until you yelled at me if I was ok?!

p. I'm hurt not deaf and you are one ugly squishy.

r. Gasp and say "Rosebot" before going into stasis shock

s. Tell my femme *rattle off phrase only in Cybertronian* It's important she know that!

t. I don't mind joining the matrix. Could use the rest from you and this planet.

146. Do not show disrespect to a command officer through the use of nicknames, especially when said mech or femme has stated their disapproval of said nickname. Including but not limited to:

a. Prowlie, Prowler, Prowappy or Prorule Maker.

b. Primebot, Primie or Optimax.

c. Ironhide as Little blast, big blast, blastmaster or Blaster (another Autobot name)

d. Major Lennie, Lionox, Len, or Willie.

e. Riptech, Wrenchit, or Chief Mad Officer instead of Chief Medical Officer

147. Do not try to understand human beliefs regarding intangible probabilities including but not limited to luck, karma, fate, and chance.

148. Do not mistake a human's expressed wish or desire for true intentions. They dream, fantasize and live in alternate realties online without focusing on what is before them_. _

149. Do not endanger Autobots or humans on the NEST obstacle course. It is for battle simulations and not pranks, especially on a femme, intentional or not.

150. When a human asks, 'do you have a sparkmate?' do not :

a. Break down sobbing at how unfair the universe is that you are alone.

b. Widen your optics and say "Why, did you want the position?"

c. I did but then we fought and she left me to join the Decepticons.

d. Femmes? Who the slag needs them?

e. A spark mate would be illogical, time consuming and a pain in the aft.

f. I believe in shallow, spark with them and leave them relationships.

g. What? And lose all those responses to my online personal ads? *Checks online account* nothing but humans! Yech!

h. 5 known femmes (2 spark mated already) and 42 known mechs with more coming from the far reaches of space. What are my odds?

i. She's mine! Even look her way fleshling and I will hunt you down to Cybertron's far moons!

j. Because having a mech and a sparkling would be redundant.

k. I did want a spark mate then worked with the twins for an Orn and that cured that.

l. Primus has protected me so far from that fate.

m. No, because Prime and Ultra Magnus aren't interested and their other brother is a psychotic killer.

n. Course not, no one is good looking enough to match me. *Sunstreaker.

151. Do not assume that surviving the last battle equips you to survive the next one. Humans never stop learning and improving war capabilities. Neither should we though we must never learn their lust for power and conquering.

152. Do not let the humans handle our subspace technology. They spill their coffee on a regular basis. Primus help us if they glitched a subspace field.


	46. Chapter 46 Lost Areas

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. No, I did not take part of the story arc from V_eiled Threat_, have not read that book yet. Used ancient civilizations that were powerful yet disappeared without good explanation. Not an original idea for sorting but tried.

Rule 157 was inspired by a line in the fic Autobot Pranks where one of the Corvette twins uttered a line about seeing Megatron do a pole dance than deal with a specific human. Here is one possible event to that, intense post battle injuries but Megatron is not to be messed with.

Story arc hints: In the first Transformers movie, under the dam, the Allspark sent part of its' essence and energy into subspace when it shrunk for Bumblebee to move it to Mission City. When Sam used it on Megatron, part of the mini cubes were sub spaced out . Sam is seeing glyphs on Optimus, Bumblebee and Ratchet for their problems. More twists are coming and plot revelations too. Not as dark or angst as it seems. Onward to temporarily messed up times and appreciating the quiet times in your life.

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_Do not attack an adversary without just cause, the backup of friends or family and the ability to win the battle. Revenge is not our way nor is war as it destroys our world and families. War cannot be won, only survived. Prime Mesayon – Tactics and Strategy entry # 29 * Translated from Ancient Cybertronian_

_157. Do not attack recklessly, foolishly or to show off in front of the humans, military or civilian. They offline faster and cannot move out of the way as easily. There is enough energon and blood spilt in war. Do not add to it. _

The Corvette twins raced down the deserted road in their Lamborghini alt modes, dodging the incoming blasts. "You had to insult him!" Sideswipe screamed, blast damage to his front and middle weakening his comm signal strength to near uselessness.

"It was to distract him! Your sword should have shattered his spark! How the frag did he turn so fast?!"

"He's Megatron! I stabbed him through and he broke my blade!" Sideswipe groaned, energon levels fluctuating as another emergency patch began to fail. His twin felt his distress, attempting another emergency call for help. Megatron still blocked them.

"Turn next side road! Get off this main area. I have an idea," he yelled, desperate to save them both.

"Your last idea was to attack him because he was alone! Look what happened!" his twin retorted then his engine coughed, missing a beat as his spark flared. Megatron's mace had shattered through his armor, sending him airborne. Only the tackle of his yellow twin against the leader of the Decepticons had kept him from being offlined next strike.

"Eat this mega twit!" Sunstreaker had howled, throwing the sensor ghost bomb against his optics. Both Autobots had fled, transforming and racing away. Impossibly, Megatron had appeared like winged death and chased them to their present location.

"Those electrical towers, head for them!" His yellow alt form bounded over the road, sliding through the grass. Transforming, he skated on his feet then focused all his weapons power into a single device designed by Wheeljack as a gift. Sideswipe raced past, transforming and falling on his side. Megatron descended and ignored the Autobot's targeting lock, his red optics pulsating with hate and the need to shatter their sparks.

His twin's pain gave the mech focus and strength. The shoulder launcher fired, dispelling the green cloud directly in front of Megatron. Pivoting, he nearly cried for his twin but fired at the nearest electrical tower, its high energy lines in his bulls eye. The green cloud settled on it, fading and disappearing.

"Nice knowing you mega spark" Sunstreaker shouted before diving over his brother's body. Megatron hissed, being drawn forward as his entire protoform radiated green. The metal tower glowed green, energy arcs in all directions. The crash shook the area, destroying the tower's top, back charging electricity all the way through the power lines. Tower after tower sparked and exploded. Sunstreaker raised up in time to see Megatron slumping to the ground, armor smoking at every joint.

The last emergency patch was being sealed when Sunstreaker heard an impossible sound. The growl only one being from Cybertron made. Blue optics raised past the red armored metal, over the open chest plates to focus in disbelief. "He's online?"

Megatron rose, sliding roughly on the tower base as his body jerked and swayed. Metal was slagged, ate by the acid mist and charred with electrical overload. One arm hooked the bar above, bending it as he pulled his weight up. He snarled, grinding his jaw then slithered backwards, clanging up against the tower, green glowing on green.

"Wheeljack's magnetic nannites are still working, pulling to each other," Sunstreaker realized, closing his twin's chest plates and forcing an emergency onlining.

Two silver claws reached up, pushing off as Megatron arched his back. He leaned forward then spun around, face smacking to the tower again. He slid his aft out, skating his feet out before circling slowly around to try and take a step. Shaking, he reached his arms straight out, transforming his main telescoping gun then flew backwards. The gun arms snapped straight up in the air as he bellowed in rage, green shimmering on green.

"Move!" Sunstreaker yelled, physically grabbing his red twin and yanking him up. "Offline later, rolling but move!" They transformed, peeling out and never looking back. Receivers detected a distant explosion as they hid in a self storage RV unit breems later.

"He's free. Blew up the tower." Sideswipe guessed.

"Fried himself again no doubt. We wait here, go into stasis and let the nannites work," Sunstreaker stated. "If we call for help, he might intercept. Two more days before our scouting mission ends and the others come looking for us."

His twin began shaking, sounds rattling back and forth from his external speakers. The laughter became clearer.

"What is so fragging funny?"

"Megatron! He…he…just…did…a…" Sideswipe sputtered

"Did a what?" He barked, worried his processors were damaged.

"Pole dance!" Sideswipe roared, falling over and rolling on the soft dirt floor.

"Ewwwww!" His twin groaned then snickered. The footage was edited, put to music and uploaded to the internet under the exotic dancers' category that night. _Megatron and his metal boogie_ got over ten thousand hits the first day. Then internal security saw it and had it removed.

The twins transmitted a short encrypted message stating they had been in a fight with Decepticons and were injured but rolling back to Diego Garcia under their own spark. Optimus confronted them as they rolled in.

"Do you know how much trouble you are in?" He asked, arms crossed, optics narrowed as he began surveying their injuries. No battle memory matched their current condition. "Let Ratchet start repairs here. Or we will carry you to med bay."

"No, we don't need him." They said in unison, transforming slowly and displaying more damage.

"How many Decepticons were there?" Ironhide asked, holding Sideswipe up, pulling medical diagnostics. "And why didn't you call for backup?"

"One. He jammed us. It was Megatron," Sideswipe confessed, leaning against the black mech. Ironhide's grip tightened as arm cannons rolled once.

"Megatron!" Optimus repeated. "He attacked you? No, you attacked him!" His eyes flashed red briefly.

"Does that mean Prowl will create three rules at once?" Sunstreaker asked, swaying while balancing on one intact foot plate. The black blast charring on his yellow armor made him look like a bumblebee through a blender.

"By the time you finish brig time after med bay repairs your processors will be too ancient to remember what a rule is!" Optimus roared.

"How do we tell Ratchet?" Sideswipe asked.

Epps grinned, pulling out his smart phone. "There's an app for that." A throwing wrench flashed back and forth across the screen.

"Med bay. What's the emergency?" Ratchet's voice sounded from the tiny speaker.

"Twins are hurt following an attack with Megatron and think they can handle repairs themselves." Epps said. The answer blew out the phone's speaker.

_158. When asked to describe a situation or battle scene, do not answer: _

_a. Bad, really really bad._

_b. Uh, send every bot? And I do mean every bot._

_c. We are so fragged!_

_d. Uhm, you didn't have any plans for later did you? You might want to cancel them._

_e. OMP! *Oh my Primus!_

_f. Remember when you said nothing would ever top the Azvarius battle? This will. _

_g. All right, cannon blasting time! _

_h. Not good as in I just got my paint redone and now this ?!_

_i. Did I ever tell you how much I hate scouting missions? Because if I survive this, I am never doing one again! _

_j. Worse than the twins ever could have done, well maybe close to them…_

_k. Time to wrack and ruin!_

_l. Even my nightmares aren't this bad looking…_

_m. Uhm, does Megatron have a weak spot? Now would be the time to tell me where it is._

_n. Tell my femme I love her and sorry I won't be coming back. (You will and know it, just want to party before returning to base to have her fuss over you) _

Prowl watched Optimus stomp by in the main hallway, not saying a word. Their leader had been unreachable since the twins fight. 'Not because of Megatron but their attacking him. I swear they never listen to any bot. How many times have I heard Prime warn them not to engage him alone?' he processed. 'One hundred forty nine' his memory core supplied the answer.

Ratchet greeted him as the med bay doors closed. "Sideswipe is still in stasis lock. Sunstreaker is in the brig. Repair updates are available. I assume there is a personal reason for this visit?"

"To offer myself," Prowl started then vented, systems overheating.

"Not my type," Ratchet deadpanned. Then the medic took pity. "I know. If I need to talk you are there to listen. You never repeat anything I tell you. My psychological profile results are hid and you know all our secrets and none of our faults. Memory core failing? You asked if I needed to talk to twice already."

"The offer to listen," he stressed he word _listen, _"is always there. Even if not phrased properly. Prime has Ironhide, the others have you. Who do you have?"

"I have coping mechanisms. All medics do," he grumbled, hefting a wrench.

"As you wish. My comm line is always accessible," Prowl reminded as he left.

"That can be fixed," Ratchet said then hesitated. He did need someone to talk. The silence of the medbay was no longer the comfort it had been.

_191. Do not let personal hobbies or interests interfere with professional combat readiness. Humans collect odd items, do not become a collector for the sake of collecting. We are continually on the move and our alt modes have limited space capability. _

"We are never going to get past Prowl," Sideswipe moaned, leaning back against the wall behind his recharge berth.

"There has to be a way we've missed," his golden twin said for the twentieth time as he paced back and forth in the narrow quarters.

"We missed being offlined or rusting in the brig. Be grateful Optimus forgave us and Ratchet repaired us. So how do we get what we want now?"

"We've been through them all. Over, under, and creating a diversion and walking right by him. He is doing inventory right next to our next prank stash. Every sensor is focused on the work. We either delay the prank or get caught by him."

"Walk by…that gives me an idea. How about this?" He sent the data packet idea then waited.

"You want to WHAT!" His twin exclaimed, optics going wide.

_**Main Autobot Hanger – 1 hour later**_

Annabelle completed the data pad entry, smiling as it was graded one hundred percent. Sitting below the communications platform, she worked in a quiet corner by the mainframe connections. Soldiers kept an eye on her, remembering the threat her dad had promised should she wander away again. No one would tell her what it was but Ironhide had approved of it. "That means it's bad or good? Adults are so confusing."

The data pad beeped, the next lesson flashing up immediately, the Cybertronian glyphs growing more complicated as the lesson progressed. "Hey Ironhide," a soldier called to the mech entering.

Frowning, she turned and listened. "The steps are wrong," she recognized instantly staring at the shape. "Looks like him but not him. This doesn't feel right," she closed the data pad. Sliding off the chair, she crept around the base platform, watching the strange mech move by. He turned and waved and she waved back planning, 'Don't react. Find daddy and Optimus and tell them.'

Satisfied, Sideswipe congratulated himself on the hologram use. 'Even the youngling believes. Drop off 'Hide's daily report and no one will know the difference. Prowl will be easy smeasy.'

He missed Annabelle moving towards the doors. The soldier by the stairs stopped her, refusing to let her move any closer to the outside. Frowning, she tapped her foot then recognized First Class Communications officer Michael Thomas walking in. He smiled then laughed as he was nearly crushed in her hug. A pat on her head and he continued for the stairs, never missing the phone out of his back pocket. Her little fingers dialed a number she should not have known but did. 'Big Bot' answered.

A breem later Ironhide strode out of the main hangar, past Annabelle who waved goodbye, before heading across the tarmac. "Going somewhere sparkster?" a femme voice crooned, causing him to flinch. Chromia leaned on the hangar wall in her blue bi pedal mode, curling her lip plates into a smile. She stood up, dark blue armored hands out and approached him with swinging hip plates. "We were interrupted last time by a battle call. Our other passion. Ready to finish?" She reached then frowned as he backed up suddenly.

"Not now," he growled, sidestepping out and around her. "Show restraint. I have work to do femme."

"Work? More like explaining," she snarled, subspacing her rifle and tapping the back of his black armored head with it.

"A good explanation," Prime's regal baritone demanded as he stepped in front of him with his rifle charged as the other Autobots approached from all directions, weapons online and locked.

Ironhide vented softly, making no sudden moves. "All I want is in hangar four, a couple of crates. No threat no damage. Please?"

"What's in them?" Prime demanded, relaying a signal to evacuate the area and have a drone recover the crates.

"My comics," the mech admitted then shifted images down to the red twin Sideswipe. He made no move to drop his swords out of hiding. He was psychotic and fight happy but not stupid. "Sunstreaker hid some prank stuff there too. I like comics and a bunch arrived from e-bay. They always get confiscated and delayed getting to me. Humans intercept and read them, even lost a few issues. I had them shipped directly via inter base shipping. Ironhide and Prowl are the only ones with clearance to get into that hangar and remove a crate without human inspection first."

"Comics?" Optimus repeated in disbelief. He tilted his head then nodded. "Prowl confirms your story. The crates contain comics. The other items he has confiscated. You will apologize to Ironhide for using his image and destroy the data chip containing the holo, clear?" His tone not to be defied. Weapons were returned to their hiding in subspace by the gathered Autobots.

"Yes sir," The red mech acknowledged then reached for his twin over their secure bond. ::You got those crates yet?:: Sideswipe

::Already heading back to our quarters. Nice distraction on Prowl. Told you getting caught on the eastside would not get us caught with our westside stash. Ready for tonight?:: Sunstreaker

:: More than ready:: Sideswipe

::How did you let them know it was you and not the real Ironhide?:: Sunstreaker

::No idea. Think Chromia figured it out. Tried to grab me:: Sideswipe

::Be thankful that was all she did. Seen Ironhide in med bay getting dents pounded out. That femme has a temper:: Sunstreaker

Annabelle looked out around the wall edge as Sideswipe left. Optimus kneeled by her. "You were right to call me little miss. That was not Ironhide. You did well and stayed safe while helping."

"He walked funny," she repeated while hugging her toy Rufus. The regal red and blue mech nodded before rising and leading his team away. She looked down at Rufus and giggled. "And he felt like Sideswipe in my head. I didn't tell to see if I was right. But I was. Think I should tell them?" Her stomach growled lightly. "I'm hungry. Let's go eat. I heard they have pizza today."

**Earth Teams - Story Arc (continued)**

Ultra Magnus stood stock still, analyzer programs running. "Will this hold my mass? Analysis indicates probable yes. More probable one step, a few fractures and I fall forty stories to the bottom an old stone pyramid shape. Blast my way out and the whole thing would fall on me the way my luck has been going." He stepped onto the top floor, waiting before moving. "Keep an eye on Elita Prime says. Keep her out of trouble he orders. Then disappears into subspace," he stepped, waiting then took another step.

"I swear he hates me for not making Prime. Or remaining single." The pillars trembled as he slid between them but he kept moving. Elita glanced over her shoulder, watching his slow progress. He took a step, hearing stones cracking beneath his armored blue feet then continued past the massive stone table. He joined her by the far edge, looking out over the area. Once tilled farmlands were overgrown, the boundaries marked by crumbling stone walls. Flat areas covered with weeds marked were houses and shops once stood.

"See an answer? Hidden maze? Super secret short ending calendar? Or a…a…" She asked then stammered to a stop. Chassis twitching, one arm rose to hold her chest panels as she leaned back against the massive stone table. He reached one hand out for support. Balance compensators wobbled then steadied; rising to her feet she ignored his outstretched arm.

"Spark bothering you?"

She glared then bit back on her first response. "The jump affected me. Don't," she warned as his medical scans rippled across her armor shielding. "My internal scans read functional. My spark pattern is off. I am matched to Optimus but in the jump, something affected my spark. Fragging thing changed. Optimus is alive but I've lost my sync with him."

"How? Never mind. If you knew you would tell me," Magnus stated, placing one hand on the stone table. He tapped his metal fingers, stirring up dust. "Anything else I should know?"

"That pattern," Elita's optics went wide. He glanced down at his fingers, jumping away as blue energy crackled the stone table's length. The stones flared blue then shifted to engraved metal cubes, folding to an uneven geometrical shape with three cubes aligning on each other in the very center.

"That looks like Allspark metal," Magnus noted, tapping it.

"Not square, not even close. Like blocks a youngling would start to build with. And why the three on top? No!" The femme commander ordered as he lifted it onto his palm and pushed on the three cubes like a button. The flash blinded them both.

Magnus blinked optics, redundant systems reaching out in the darkness. "Elita!" He sat the metal shape down, grabbing her crumpled form.

"My spark," she gasped. "It changed again. Core reconfiguring now. Be back online shortly." Her optics blacked as her form went limp. Power returned and she focused outward, seeing blackness.

"There are no lights. Hold still," Magnus whispered, bringing his shoulder lights up. A huge indoor cement vault like area was displayed. Yellow metal scaffolding formed a cube shape in the center of the room taller than either of them stood and massively wide. External sensors failed to reach through meters and meters of human made rebar reinforced heavy poured concrete. She raised her arm then stopped. Two red blue arms enclosed her tightly, the mech's chest against her back, his head above hers. 'This is a little intimate,' she thought, looking up into the face of Ultra Magnus.

"No moving until medical diagnosis is complete. Your mate will have my protoform for target practice if anything happens to you," he softly ordered, blue optics focused on hers.

"Ironhide would use you for target practice. Optimus would tie you up with a bow and hand deliver you to Grimlock as a new play toy, after stripping all your weapons," Elita teased, waiting for her diagnostics to finish.

"I'm flattered. Wrapped and delivered. Being among humans has taught him manners," he released her slowly, reading lines of code reports. "Your spark has changed each jump. No more until Ratchet checks you out."

Her pink forehead plate rose. "No more jumping? Sure. My passport needed one more stamp to finish the page but hey, I understand." He lifted her at the waist plates with the same strength her mate used.

"Able to stand?"

"Since my first frame, now let go!" She smacked his metal hand, hitting at the synapses point to force the hand open. He grunted at the resulting metal clang but held her tight.

"My scanner cannot reach past the concrete. We are trapped here until we explore the other rooms. I will let you go if promise to ease off. Our ranks are the same but we cannot win this war without Optimus and he needs you. Do you understand that? He needs you to be here when he returns." He stressed, flexing his hands without crunching her metal.

"Wherever here is. And why didn't your hand open?"

"Soundwave blasted my arm off at the mid plate a vorn ago. Our field medic lacked the wiring to completely restructure it," he let her go, hovering but letting her move. "The digits move with extremely limited function and my other hand is the main trigger holder."

"Ratchet doesn't know does he?" Elita glanced up at him.

"No. Optimus either. I always have other old injuries to fix first. Damaged parts capture Ratchet's attention more than missing parts. I visit him when I know another bot is already there. Never had time to do a full scan yet." He chuckled, shining his lights around the room, focusing on distant metal doors.

"You are one sneaky mech you know that?" She openly admired, filing the tip away for her future dealings with their resident medic. The brilliant flash caught them both by surprised.

"You there Skids?" a mechanical voice screamed. "Answer me bro!" Magnus lights showed Mudflap down on his knee and hand plates, holding his chest plates. His green half-sparked twin's form lay face down, optics black, in front of a metal odd geometrical shape.

_To be continued…_


	47. Chapter 47 Heading Back

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. I apologize over the major twins. I goofed and switch back and forth between Corvette and Lamborghini alt modes. They will always be red and yellow Lamborghinis as I saw and now own the G1 cartoon from the '80's. But since Transformers 2 had them Corvettes, I will endeavor to stick with Corvettes.

Rule 159 and Rule 160 use character names that are made up. No relation to anyone living or dead and not borrowed from anywhere. I went back and forth on which bots to put into the holographic driver's car scene then decided on Ultra Magnus and Elita. He really does suffer putting up with her at times. Ah, the fun of in-laws your relatives choose. I borrowed the idea of Autobots being ticklish when tapped from another fic I read once a long time ago. Onward to getting together and dealing with challenges.

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_159. Do not give any explanation or demonstration for human curiosity of a personal nature without permission from Autobot command. Especially regarding a medical subject._ *Ratchet, Red Alert, Wheeljack and Perceptor.

_160. Do not mistake a human question of wanting to understand how we or our functions WORK and the request to demonstrate the HOW with them participating. Their screams of joy and fear often sound alike. _*Ironhide, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Skids and Mudflap.

::Every bot ready?: :Optimus asked as he surveyed his team. Mech and femme, relaxed and waiting as the humans finished the cross cultural lesson. Major Lennox barely controlled his smirk as Epps reached his concluding points. 'Lost a fourth already and we are just entering round two. Now it gets fun.'

It never ceased to amaze him how different recruits thought of the same questions each time they met the Transformers. Now it was regular betting on who would ask what. After one shocking response by Sideswipe and one explanation from Ratchet including a medical demonstration, resulting in dazed and nearly traumatized troops, Optimus had ordered standardized answers. Any other response only a command officer _could _provide, after clearing it with him _first._

::One hundred credits on the blonde male, tech specialist Larry Knight, first row asking a highly personal question:: Ironhide

::Two hundred on the red head, field mechanic Mark Spinger asking about car magazines or taking photos of our femmes:: Sideswipe

:: Thousand credits agasint the femme, Private Sheila Mitchell asking to talk privately later to Ratchet:: Wheelie

::Why later?:: Optimus glanced down at the tiny blue bot.

::Recognize the look. Same my warrior goddess gives that youngling of a boyfriend when she wants private time with him:: Wheelie snickered, rolling backwards as Sideswipe suddenly stretched, just missing knocking the little bot into the wall with his fist.

::Easy Sideswipe:: Optimus

"Questions ready? Go." Epps motioned, stepping aside. Predictable, the blonde haired male Larry raised his hand first, swallowing hard.

"Can we plug in an iPod? It doesn't do anything? Plugging it in I mean?" Larry asked.

"Like wearing ear plugs in your human ears. Noise and nothing more. Play through our speakers and that is all," Sunstreaker answered, pretending to be very bored.

::Their primitive tech plugged in? It's degrading they even think we could be affected. That one is mine on the target range:: Ironhide

"Are car magazines like auto porn?" Mark asked.

::That human is first on evading Decepticons and surviving drill day::Prowl

"No, we don't have porn. No sex crimes on our sparklings or younglings either. And forcing a femme is the worst kind of pit spawned crime," Ratchet stated, his frame almost shaking with intense emotion.

"So if you caught a mech doing that?" The human gulped as Autobot weapons appeared and charged.

"We obliterate his spark and shred the protoform, starting with the personality and memory cores." Prowl stated.

"One piece is kept for the femme. She is allowed to destroy it herself once we make sure she understands," Ratchet added.

"Understands what?" Sheila asked.

"That piece is all that was left once we finished," Optimus stated resolutely.

"Oh. No more questions," the man quietly said.

"What do you think?" Mark leaned over and whispered.

"I think I was born on the wrong planet," Sheila answered. "I so want to corner that bot later."

"Which one?"

"The little blue one. He is so cute! Snuggle and hold him like a teddy bear," Sheila cooed. Wheelie transformed, rolling to hide behind Optimus' foot pad while the bigger bots snickered.

::You thinking what I'm thinking?:: Sideswipe activated their secure twin bond.

::Glue, fake fur and a pink bow?:: Sunstreaker

::You read my processor!:: Sideswipe

::Twins, leave Wheelie alone:: Optimus interrupted them both using his command override.

::How did?:: Sunstreaker sputtered.

::You were quiet. Means plotting. Try anything on Wheelie and Mikeala will have unlimited access to spare parts, Ratchet's medical library, a welder and you two in med bay. Understand?:: Optimus

The quiet dark haired, private first class Joe Toth raised his hand. "I heard there are pranks played between Transformer and humans. Is that true?"

"Why?" Major Lennox asked.

"My speciality in college. Wanted to know who to team with," he shrugged.

::Ours!:: Sideswipe and Sunstreaker

::Mine in the brig:: Prowl

"Any other pranksters?" Epps asked then winced as over half the group raised their hands.

_165. Do not change holographic drivers to weather or atmospheric conditions. _*Jazz, Bumblebee, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Magnus and Elita1.

Ultra Magnus, Commander of Autobot second forces and aristocrat turned professional soldier glared at his brother's spark mate. "You chose soft pink to rose as your color of transform. We spent orns searching nearby dealerships to find a model you would approve of. And now you want to change again?"

"Older, balding, fat middle aged human males going through their mid life crisis are more attracted to my car design. Women selling makeup to other human women ogle my colors. I am tired of their stares and comments. I want a mode that is fast, sleek and more comparable to Optimus," Elita explained, leaning against the brick building in her bi pedal mode. A plastic trash bag blew down the alley, carried on the wind. Discarded papers swirled before fluttering to a stop, plastered against the metal dumpster.

"The transform is your choice. As was dumping Jazz and Wheeljack as safety escorts. But us standing here in our armored modes, back alley or not, three in the morning human time or not, does not show wise decision making," he argued. "You were due back on base breems ago."

"I wanted to stretch. Not like anything around here is a threat," she stated, the flash in her optics daring him to argue. He resisted the urge to grab her and wrestle her physically back to the base. The last time he had tried had resulted in injuries to him and a hand refit to both her knuckle plates. Optimus had found the entire event amusing.

"Roman generals use to have a slave ride with them to remind them they were mortal when everyone else cheered them on as a war commander." Magnus said. "You know what that means?"

"You want to be my slave?" Elita pretended to consider the option. He groaned then snapped around. Motion sensors detected humans approaching their location.

"Transform so we are less noticeable." Magnus commanded. Both engaged transform protocols, shifting to their vehicle alt modes.

"A double decker car carrier painted bright red and blue pulled by a bright white semi is less noticeable? That is like Silverbolt hiding as a space shuttle," Elita grumbled, watching the youths through external sensors.

"Check out the sweet ride!" The shorter youth exclaimed, his spiky black hair sticking out at all angles. The t-shirt was torn, hiding the rock band name, hanging over dirty jeans and untied tennis shoes.

"Dude, it's pink!" his cohort complained, pointing at Elita's alt form. He got slapped alongside the head.

"Dingbat! New paint job hello?! Brother is an ex con. Works a chop shop. Paint that ride red flames, silver spin wheels and a tail fin. Then who be the boss?"

"That singer from years ago?" he replied, pulling on a lip piercing. His black leather sleeveless jacket matched the black jeans and worn boots.

"You got to stop messing with the drugs. Seriously dude," his friend said.

"Do we have to steal it?" He looked around nervously, nothing but trash moving in the wind.

"No, I could leave my phone number and a request for the owner to leave the keys so we can drive off tomorrow night with it," he pantomined writing a note in the air.

"Really, the owner would do that? Hey!" he winced, pulling away from the head slap.

::Those two are like the three stooges:: Elita

::Two like three what? You lost me:: Magnus

The blonde pulled a screwdriver from his back pocket. "Time to steal. Who will stop us? Nobody here but us and the big man upstairs," he teased, glancing around.

::They try stealing me; I will show them the working end of my rifle:: Elita

::Show them our holographic drivers:: Magnus

::Holograms but not drivers. His comment was the clue:: Elita countered.

The would be thief snapped his head up as thunder boomed. The night sky above remained clear, stars barely noticeable through the city's light pollution. He laughed nervously, "Vehicle backfire next street over."

Elita chuckled, upping her energon capacity to its limits and flooding her holographic systems. A bolt of lightning struck, missing the teens by an inch, leaving a smoking char mark on the pavement. Two more lightning bolts struck in front and back of her alt mode, charring the black top.

"This is like some disaster movie. Freaky weather, clear sky."

Elita cranked her sound boosters, creating a howling wind effect. The teens shivered, pulling close and covering their eyes though the air was still.

"Feeling cold? Try this," Magnus front bumper transformed back into two pieces, revealing a liquid sprayer. The black mist floated onto the roadway. Wherever the droplets landed, the pavement froze and ice expanded until it covered the entire street.

More lightning drove the youths towards Magnus and the ice. Intent on dodging an airborne attack , they never realized the danger until the first skidded, wind milling for traction as he went down. His friend fell with a crunch and laid there.

::Is he hurt internally?:: Elita asked, wincing at the crunch.

::Negative. Scans indicate a digital recording device in his jacket broke. Not an internal strut:: Magnus

Transforming, Elita stepped back in the shadows and aligned her rifle, lowering its power settings. She blasted the ice edge.

::Don't! You'll offline them!:: Magnus yelled, images of her in cuffs before Prime as he passed judgment flared through his processor like a nightmare. The blast wavered, its concussive force throwing the youths across the ice like a giant wind. They slid, screaming before bouncing up and over the curb. They rolled through the park gates and onto the grass.

"Touchdown!" Elita cheered as they passed the park gates. Transforming back, she rolled up alongside Magnus. "Changed my mind. I'm keeping this alt form. Any human it attracts I don't like I can deal with. Might be fun. Have to ask the twins for ideas once we get back to base."

Magnus whimpered, shaking on his frame as his engine engaged, following the rose convertible down the street towards the main highway. "Primus why do you hate me? Is it because I refused to be a Prime? Or painted the senate meeting hall with my initials ? I was only in my second frame and it was a dare. Or snuck that high grade energon as a youngling? I got sick and nearly offlined with poisoning but got my first weapons upgrade when the medic noticed my spark strength. Was it for repainting my first commanders alt mode into stripes? Why me? What have I done? Why?" He reasoned the entire way back.

**Story Arc (continued)**

Elita held a panicked Mudflap as Magnus brought Skids out of stasis. "The jump is messing with sparks. You share one spark. He's online even if you no longer feel his spark exactly!" She grabbed the small mech and lifted him up to her optics. "He's fine. You won't be unless you listen!"

Wide blue optics focused on her, its owner wanting desparate reassurance. "Skids?"

"He will be fine. How did you get here?"

"We didn't do it. Okay, we did. Was arguing and hit this stone wall then it went chunk chunk chunk and metal squares were there and we bounced it, flash and here."

"Where?" Skids asked, reaching for his twin. Elita let go and watched as they physically checked each other for damage.

She rolled her optics up and focused on the ceiling. A metal line ran across the ceiling, radiating faint Allspark energy. Then her memory processor clicked. "Dam!"

"Elita! Swearing is undignified," Magnus reminded as both twins gasped.

"No, dam as in Hoover dam. Sector Seven hid the Allspark and Megatron by Mission City dam. Bumblebee said it transformed and compacted when he touched it. This is a focal point!"

"The metal shapes don't fit each other, why transport here?" Skids pointed out the obvious.

"Ask someone who knows," Mudflap stated. "Like Prime, he knows everything."

"Would if I could," Elita murmured then issued orders. "This dam had ways to the surface. Stay here while I explore. Keep in contact."

**Cybertron**

"It is time," the tallest of the ancient Primes intoned. "The humans need to return to their physical forms. Find the answer, help the Allspark. Contact us as needed."

"I'll add your phone number soon as I get back," Sam joked, smiling down at Annabelle. She smiled back, waving goodbye. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and faded from view. White mist rolled in, hiding the ancient Primes before blackness took over.

"Sam? Sam, can you hear me?" an unfamiliar mech's voice asked. A touch prodded his stomach and he winced.

"Easy! I'm human not a squeaky dog toy," the boy muttered, opening his eyes and sitting up. Cliffjumper was peering over the edge of Optimus blue metal fingers at him.

"What's a dog? Never mind, found the data," the little red scout said.

Optimus optics flipped open as the matrix went dormant. His other hand retrieved it, hiding it back into his hip containment. "Status report," he ordered.

"Bumblebee is meeting with the new arrivals a parsec away. Checking them out and stalling until you are both online. First group was nine breems ago led by Perceptor, second five breems and the last just transformed and are being briefed."

"How many mechs?" Sam asked.

"Ten total."

"That's it?"

"Look kid," Cliffjumper got sharp in his tone. "There are less than two thousand Autobots left out of millions and the Decepti-creeps would love to make that number zero! Ten is a slagging assault force!"

"Easy Cliffjumper," Optimus admonished. "He meant no disrespect. We have kept our numbers hidden from the humans and information is limited." Internally, he sent a warning.

::Do not tell the boy Decepticon practices. He should not carry the burden of knowing some Decepticons are our own Autobot brothers. Their memories and personalities fragmented beyond repair by a virus. That is why our numbers decrease and they endure:: Optimus

::Too scared if he knew?:: Cliffjumper

::Hurt and grieve. He cares for our race. He has enough to handle for now. In time, he will learn and grow as a Prime. But not now:: Optimus

::Prime? Title is longer than he is:: Cliffjumper sent then glanced right. Bumblebee scrambled over a shattered metal wall, waving and whistling. Mechs followed. The last figure over the wall was a surprise, a femme, her body and protoform both silver painted. Introductions were quickly made as they clustered around Prime. The high pitched clicks and chirps of their native language conveyed their excitement.

Bumblebee stayed his distance, having completed his task. The boy looked up as his friend whistled. He tapped his yellow armored fingers together in front of Sam, as though to squish him like a tube of toothpaste. The boy chuckled at their private joke, missing being able to communicate more normally.

Optimus defended the yellow scout's silence the night before. "On earth, music is a dominant form of expression. Here on Cybertron, we have music but as a side art. Femmes communicate with their sparklings in their first frame until they learn words or a medic to sooth a badly damaged mech, giving their processors a focal point."

"But not to communicate like Bumblebee does?" Sam guessed.

"Correct Sam. He is a hero for Tyger Pax. They know he lost his vocalizer during the torture."

"Not understanding him playing a song clip or radio commercial?"

"Not yet. Once they have become acclimated to earth and my team, they will. And Sam, do not stray from your guardian. Other mechs will not recognize you as sentient or your physical limitations regardless of what we tell them. And do not mention Mission City, Egypt or the Allspark."

He sighed heavily then nodded. "I want to go home. Tired of eating junk food."

"I thought human youths lived on those foods and its been less than one earth day."

"Use to. I'm eating healthier and now," Sam chuckled softly, "It all tastes so salty, sugary and artificial I can...hardly...eat it. Do you see that?" he pointed towards a ripple in the air. Two mechs yelled a warning when the white flash blinded them all.

They stumbled in the darkness, chirps and clicks as they called to each other. Optimus went to his knees, medical warnings flashing as his spark flared. Strong metal arms held him down and he fought instinctively, trying to reach for Elita and fight his spark pain.

::Optimus! It's Magnus! Elita is coming. Hold on:: Magnus

::'Lita?:: Optimus barely sent, systems running full out then begal calming as the lights returned.

::Rolling back now. We're under the Hoover dam. Stay calm:: Magnus

::Orion!:: Elita

::Lita! My spark, I can't feel yours:: Optimus

::Subspace jump is affecting sparks. I'm here:: Elita sent as the revving of her engine could clearly be heard. Sliding to a stop inside the metal doors, she transformed and ran the few short steps into his arms.

"How come she didn't greet us like that?" Skids grumped, watching their embrace.

"'Cause she his femme. And we small and forgotten bro," Mudflap retorted then blinked as the unknown silver femme approached.

"Your moon miners aren't you?" She asked, looking down at them. They nodded, causing her lip plates to curl into a grin. "I use to work on moon base three, helping run shuttles to the asteroid mining belts. Nice to see your type here. We'll have to swap stories about times before." They both nodded mutely.

::Say something:: Skids

::Like what? She's beautiful:: Mudflap

::And she likes us:: Skids

Bumblebee groaned, running a metal hand down his face plates. He knew the twins and their silence could only mean trouble later. Outside communications were blocked by the football field width layers of cement. 'Figures. Hid the cube's energy from us outside and now we are inside. I hate this place.' Leg transmitters flared to life and he jumped backwards, holding his leg up.

Sam smirked, rubbing his knuckles. "Kaela told me that staccato beat pattern meant tickling to you guys."

"_What did she say?"_ song clip played from Bumblebee.

"Ratchet taught her. Lost a bet and she made him talk."

"_What else can you learn here? Come see and be amazed_," a college commercial sound clip played.

"Not sure, she only shared that. Besides, you know I'm ticklish on my main body," he blushed, remembering a horrified Bumblebee rushing in and grabbing him from Mikeala, misinterpreting the tickle session for an attack. 'I was laughing so hard I couldn't tell him and Mikeala thought he wanted in on the fun. Told him to 'get my ribs' and he transformed, racing away with me. Least I stopped him from calling in Ratchet to 'fix' me.'

The air shimmered and began moving. "Oh pit." The white flash was all too familiar.

Sam stumbled, hearing gravel crunch underneath his shoes. His eyes watered in the bright sunlight, discerning a city block. "Earth! Yes, we're home!" Then the weapons fire began.

_To be continued… _


	48. Chapter 48 Seeing but not realizing

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Still using reader / reviewer suggestions as I can. Thanks to reader / reviewer Dragoon-Yue for Rule 175 on human implants and the Allspark # a – k. l And a shout out to everyone who has helped and put up with Prowl and I as the rules continue to be needed.

Rule 168 and 169 are based on talking to someone, who missed the' If this happens' _IF part_ or only half listens to what you are telling them, getting the facts wrong and stay confused even as you correct them for the tenth time! And reverse logic doesn't always work as planned. Be patient, still not the story arc end but getting closer. Onward to solving big problems and seeing but now knowing.

TRTRTRTTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR

_When using reason and logic, ensure the enemy you are confronting understands those concepts. The best battle plan fails before madness and hate. Prime Mesayon, Strategy and Tactics *Translated from Ancient Cybertronian. _

_168. Do not use advance logic, processing techniques or complicated strategy with most humans. It will not work or be missed by their species entirely, creating confusion. They work primarily on emotion first and intelligence second. _

Prowl stood at full attention, wing doors held high and unmoving as he waited for Optimus. His black and white amour shined, not a scratch anywhere. The regular human staff went out and around him, keeping their distance out of respect. His optics remained steady blue, occasionally looking around the hangar without focusing on any specific person or fellow Autobot. Memory processors reviewed current reports and readiness assessments, recommending which recruit continued or would be shipped back to the states. One human male in particular was marked for immediate removal from NEST.

That recruit had progressed through the courses, not drawing overt attention to himself until the avoidance drill. "Three times," Prowl counted on his metal fingers in front of the man, "three times you ran forward attempting to engage the enemy and were offlined in less than one minute!"

"You robots cheat!" he had yelled, his right eye already darkening with the bruise. "No enemy is that fast or hard to hit!"

"Decepticons are. You have seen the footage yourself." Human medics waited to treat the man. The last 'offlined' call had him enraged, refusing their attention until he had personally talked to the designer of the drill, Prowl himself.

"You're lying! That footage was faked!" he spat a gob of blood, licking his split lip.

"It was not faked," Prowl stated calmly. "Ask Major Lennox, Sergeant Epps or other personnel present in Mission City or Egypt."

"They didn't design this course, you did! What would you know of impossible odds? Or being stressed on the battlefield when you're nothing but unfeeling machines. Seeing friends die. And the person in front of you is why they died!" NEST officers winced at the man's accusation.

Prowl considered a response to reach the man then considered reverse logic human style. "Yes, it was a trap to see how you would respond. Respond with logic and reasoning to protect yourself and your fellow soldiers or get offlined spectacularly," he gestured broadly, ignoring the human's startled looks.

Unfortunately, he missed Arcee and Chromia hiding nearby in full stealth mode, pretending to be Decepticon drones. "What if I informed you I had a spark twin once that became a Decepticon? I became an Autobot and he offlined my one true love, my femme in revenge?" He closed his optics, struggling to maintain an upset look for effect before continuing. "I swore to offline him for his betrayal of our twin bond and for her. Our first battle left me damaged, resulting in a permanent processing glitch to my logic center. My overriding emotional need for revenge gave him the victory before the first weapon fired."

Prowl deliberately dimmed his optics as though remembering the event before returning to kneel by the human. "It is irrelevant if you get stressed or upset. Emotions can be controlled and harnessed, on the battlefield or in life. I know," he quietly said. "What if I told you the next time we met, I won, and he failed? By controlling emotions I had the upper hand? I put him in permanent stasis lock pending trial for his crimes. Megatron found and released him." He paused for dramatic effect, wondering if the twins felt the same way telling one of their tales. Slightly excited, concentrating on words to achieve the right effect and feeling humor knowing it was all false.

"He will face me again. I may be offlined, allowing her memory to be lost or I will take his spark, the one equal to mine, to protect that which I now value. Neither option affects my ability to learn, reason and fight. Do you understand? The battlefield is not for emotional responses. You are a soldier with responsibilities and carry a weapon. Temper tantrums are not allowed." The man's mouth moved without sound, his body almost shaking before the black and white mech.

"You will never mention this in my audio range again and do not use your reactions as a reason for failure. Continue the drill." Stepping back, Prowl transformed and rolled back to the hangar to report to Optimus. "I think that concluded satisfactorily. Wonder what changes will result?"

Optimus finished the conference call with the human advisory committee and raised his hand in greeting to Prowl as the conference video screen darkened. ::I am capable of multi-tasking. Holding a conference call, handling our field teams, your report and chewing bubble gum while walking::: Optimus

::Chewing what?:: Prowl

::Bubble gum. Human reference. Report please:: Optimus sent then signaled for them to leave the hangar and continue the conversation outside.

"I discovered information regarding our recruit requests. There is a new personnel officer who is approving or denying each application. Moreover, approval is not consistently with our specifications or previous search criteria of successful candidates"

"And?" Optimus asked, watching a seagull dip and soar on the wind overhead.

"The human in question is named Galloway. As in, the Galloway Major Lennox convinced to jump out of an airplane. He was reprimanded after Egypt and fell out of political favor."

"And now he sends us replacement personnel. Potential damage?" Optimus regarded his second in command meditatively as he closed an internal comm call from Chromia.

"Nine recruits have criminal records for minor crimes, all related to prank aftermaths or crimes completed in the execution of prank. Two commanding officers were delighted to have the men transferred and recommend Galloway for an award. Four are acceptable by our standards, two additional failed their psychological tests based on erratic behaviors and were granted conditional transfer and one was shipped from serving a life's sentence in prison. He was rejected in round one. Another male, I just had an encounter with," Prowl looked sheepish for a minute. "Is potentially a 'loose cannon' as the humans define the term. Overly emotional and fails to follow orders. I recommend his immediate removal. "

Optimus vented in frustration, crossing his blue armored arms. "We fight to protect their race and one human risks it all. Does he want his planet lost?"

"We could endeavor to arrange another airplane transport for him."

"Still upset about the Barricade rumor?" He chuckled.

"If I had chosen a blue form communications based would they have claimed Soundwave was my twin? Or Starscream is the sparkling of Megatron because they are both silver?" He snapped, an uncharacteristic display of anger. "Alt forms are chosen not controlling. Twice recruits asked if Barricade was my twin because he assumed a law enforcement alt mode. He is not."

"No, Barricade is not," Optimus agreed then hesitated. "You were the second volunteer for my command team once I became Prime. I know nothing of your life before other than you were recommended as a strategist and loyal officer."

"Has there been a question of my loyalty or skills?" he asked puzzled.

"Never. Elita and I discussed our lives before we joined the war. Our creators, the paths we had chosen at that time and why," Optimus offered the conversation thread.

"The past cannot be changed, only learned from," Prowl said. "If you will excuse me sir, I have duties to attend to." He transformed, driving off towards his office and overlooked Prime's gaze following him.

_163. When a human asks, 'did you encounter Decepticons?' and you, the transport, NEST human soldiers and fellow Autobots are obviously damaged, do not answer:_

_a. No, three kids with water super soakers punched through our armor and left char blasts. _

_b. Sparking last night with a femme. Told her she needed to ease up on the armor, too big for her hip plates._

_c. This? The swiss cheese look is to support our local dairy farmers. What, were on a military base on an island? Hmm? Coral reefs look then?_

_d. Prank backfired. Apparently Megatron and Starscream have no sense of humor when being shot at._

_e. Noticed huh? *Arm, both legs from the knee plates are missing*_

_f. Good guess. Now can you use your intellectual skills to find the number for med bay and call Ratchet!_

_g. Either that or I stole one of Ironhide's cannons while he was still holding the other one…_

_h. We decided to play Marco polo with energon rifles _

_i. Cheaper to get parts replaced than upgrade you know. _

_j. Wanted to give Ratchet, Red Alert, and Wheeljack a challenge this weekend. _

_k. Slipped and fell in a mud puddle filled with sharkticons._

_l. I was looking for Sam and woke up Mikeala by mistake. _*Bumblebee

_m. Visited my local fan club and those fan girls are enthusiastic_! *Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Ultra Magnus

_n. Do you really expect me to answer that?_

_o. Let's see, I bagged one, still functional online so how about you remove it from the cargo hold by yourself and let me know what happens next?_

_p. This? Army Ranger group therapy. _

_q. Sale at the local superstore, opened at 6 am and was by the doors when they first opened. _

_r. Trying to outdo my record for most impressive battle damage _*Optimus Prime

_s. Femmes dig battle wounds and repair welds_. *Ironhide

_t. Time to get a new paint job and I thought, hey why not go all out?_

_u. Logical response is "Yes" but illogical is "my safety processor is offline and you look like a fun target *targets shoulder rifle* start running fleshling…". _*Prowl

_v. Encounter? As in to meet as an adversary or enemy and to engage in conflict with? What gave it away?_

_w. Missed the memo on 'get your aft kicked party' at noon?_

_169. Do not rely on human audio receptors and memory processors to record, store and retrieve given information in the future accurately, in a timely manner or to match our standards. "I forgot" is both an excuse and accurate summation and their inability to remember. Time and distance affect memories, even if only five minutes or moving five feet away, especially in regard to car keys, optical glasses, homework and other assigned duties. _

"Obstacle course again?" Sideswipe sighed, rapidly reviewing personnel files on the recruits. He sat on his recharge berth, idly wondering if painting his side of their quarter's bright red had been too much contrasting with Sunstreaker's bright yellow half. "We need to know what they can do. A few have promise but their pranks were simple or injured others. Not well enough thought out."

"Drill area is west side of the base including the beach with a few surprises. Four teams of humans, only two are designated NEST. One military and one group unidentified."

"Meaning?" His twin looked over from his datapad.

"Meaning real world you can't tell how people will react to us." Sunstreaker grinned.

"Like screaming, running around and getting in our way?" Sideswipe reminded as they left the room, transforming and rolling towards the west tarmac.

Ironhide gave the final instructions, reminding them to watch for humans and be ready for anything. Lennox led his teams, splitting them different directions. Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Hound, and the femmes waited in their bi pedal modes. The recruits milled around, hot and nervous in their full combat gear then surged ahead as the buzzer sounded. Autobots dove, slid and jumped in and around them, scattering them in a panic before disappearing.

Laughing, Sideswipe flipped up and over the building to land in front of Chromia. "Their faces show their fear! I love it."

"You are one sick Autobot you know that?" Chromia asked, monitoring the attack team moving in, circling around the approaching recruits.

"They scream and remember to stay clear. Better than stepping on one of them or picking up their pieces. We know who is friendly and not of our own kind. They still get fooled."

"They should stay clear and let us fight this war," she grunted, returning to watch the two groups encounter each other. "Fifteen seconds and the recruits are wiped. That's our cue. Get the NEST team. Decepticons are sneaky and we are the Decepticons this drill." Twenty minutes later, one team remained, scattered across the base but effectively hiding and striking. Four Autobots, including Arcee and Elita were tagged out but not offlined. Two recruits were still unaccounted for.

Major Lennox grumbled about damage. "Potholes in the cement. The airfield black top is melted! A cargo van parked in the wrong place is destroyed. Two recycling bins, bright blue with vivid orange markings," he took a breath to continue yelling. "Each the size of a train car, full of recycling metal, and they get tipped upside down and bounced! Look at that mess!"

Annabelle giggled, looking down from the piled crates, safe in her area. "Shiny metal." Her position was striped yellow and black as off limits. Watchers and emergency personnel each were given a protected vantage point. Any soldier, recruit or mech crossing a black or yellow area or endangering the watcher inside would face Optimus and Ironhide then Ratchet then Prowl and the brig.

Bored as things went quiet, Annabelle disobeyed a direct order from her dad and began climbing down, wanting to see the spilled metal. The little girl wandered closer then sighed. "He told me to stay. I better go back. Look later."

"Shiny metal indeed," Sideswipe snickered then focused in on two human recruits approaching from the side. "Their file marks them as trouble makers. Pranks resulted in harm, albeit it minor to others. What are they carrying?" His optics switched to x-ray and thermal imaging, seeing into the backpacks. "Armored packs? That's cheating. Food, spare handgun ammo, clean pair of shorts? Hmm, not wanting to know. And what is that?" A small grenade size device sat nestled in a coat pocket, its origin definitely Cybertronian. Chromia slid in front, firing her stun rifle before his targeting system even set. "Surprise Sides! You're Starscream and Megatron is tired of you!" Optics blinked out, temporarily blinded.

She skated past Sideswipe and headed towards the fleeing humans he had been watching. They rounded the corner, sliding to a stop at the six year old girl watching them intently. Gasping, they looked over their shoulder at Chromia then at each other. The first pointed at the slag pile. His friend sneered, pulling a round object and twisted the top, flinging it back at the debris pile before running past. "The robot will save the girl."

The device activated and Chromia's internal alarms blared warning, sliding her sideways in instant reaction, heading for cover before analyzing the data.

Ironhide recognized the weapon, screaming a warning instantly across the Autobot frequency. :: Shrapnel generator! Cover Annabelle!::

The device hummed, creating a tidal wave field. Dirt, pebbles, leaves, and the metal fragments lifted as though an invisible hand gathered them up, shooting them forward. Annabelle turned, her long blonde hair still in motion as Autobot weapons began thinning the incoming targets. Ironhide's spark faltered as he realized she was going to die. Only his cannons were aligned with her but the blast at its lowest setting would shatter her small frame if he tried blasting her clear. The others were firing but the distance was too short and the field size too great.

"Annabelle!" Will screamed. She smiled then closed her eyes as the remaining metal pieces hit. Reviewing the incident in med bay, he relived his heart stopping fear but could never answer the question. "How did they _all_ miss her?"

Ratchet scanned her yet again, guaranteeing zero damage. Will Lennox he sedated and tucked into a human size bed, the combat pack removed but left him fully clothed. The medic nodded at Ironhide, sending a small data packet. Ironhide flashed back a confirmation then left.

A side conversation with Wheeljack had him leaving the controls for an energon snack. Returning, he found the data readings and security cameras were accidentally erased that night but never logged the incident. The metal itself was dumped into recycling though no one remembered seeing the cleanup crew. The Allspark energy was never detected. Ironhide returned to med bay, tucking Annabelle into the bed next to her dad's bed. She wore her favorite nightgown and carried Rufus.

"You helped the mess go away?" Annabelle asked.

"Yes and next time be more careful!" The gruff warrior grumbled. "I almost had a spark attack!"

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "Wanted to see. Next time can I help?"

He nearly choked then settled for bluffing. "Let's talk to uncle 'Jack. Have him make you an alt mode armor suit like ours. Looks like clothes but protective then you can sweetie. Deal?"

"That'll take forever!" She grumped, crossing her arms and pouting. "Deal and night 'Hide."

"Night Annabelle. Sweet dreams and tell the Primes 'hi' for Ratchet and I please."

_175. When asked, 'what DID happen to all those people in Mission City with electronic implants when the Allspark...?' do not answer: _

_a. What people?_

_b. WHAT!? OH PRIMUS!_

_c. Members of your species have electronic implants?_

_d. Well, that depends entirely on what kind of implant they had... For example, have you ever seen that movie 'Alien'?_

_e. Fraggit! I KNEW we were forgetting something!_

_f. You REALLY don't want me to answer that..._

_g. Err..._

_h. Can I get back to you on that?_

_i. What do I care?_

_j. How am I supposed to know?! I wasn't even here at the time!_

_k. I'm sorry, my audio receptors seem to be malfunctioning. I thought I just heard you say that your race has electronic implants? Could you repeat the question please?_

_l. *stare at them uncomprehendingly until it fully processes then go running in a panic to Optimus*_

_j. Where do you think the new NEST maintenance director came from?_

_k. They work at the super stupendous toy factory now in the design department._

_l. Out chasing lawyers and car salesman._

_m. You really don't want to know unless you're a fan of reality tv shows next year._

_n. Went to Hollywood to become a stuntman for action movies when his false leg changed and reshaped his lower body. _

_o. Frozen stasis until we can make the rest of them into an Autobot. _

_p. Got new implants and put up 'lost implants' signs on local bulletin boards and telephone poles for the originals._

_q. Well, she has straight teeth and a few other Cybertronic based enhancement but hey, the braces came off years early._

_r. Sold the little critters to the local circus._

_s. They joined the Decepticons fan club and run their online website_

**Story Arc (continued)**

"Cease fire!" Optimus commanded in English then belatedly resent in Cybertronian over his command frequency. He balanced up, straining to reach his feet as his spark faltered. Ultra Magnus supported Elita upright, adding his command to stop shooting. Bumblebee whistled, moving back from crouching over Sam. The youth uncurled his head from under his arms then nodded before uncurling from a fetal position on the ground.

"Decepticons are fake! It's a trick!" Cliffjumper yelled, kicking over the remnants of a wooden platform Megatron.

"And these structures are pathetic concept and structural design," Perceptor said, pointing at the building façade riddled with huge holes and burn marks.

::It's an obstacle course for battle simulations:: Bumblebee sent, hovering over Sam. Most every mech there outweighed and outgunned him. Their instant firing response had surprised him.

"Simulations? Real battles not enough?" Cliffjumper asked while looking around at the fake city block and targets marked with red and blue ribbons.

"Humans practice. Subspace weapons and stand down. We are on earth, Diego Garcia Island, NEST base. The small beings approaching are humans and fellow Autobots. You are safe here," Optimus said. Skids and Mudflap hung onto the silver femme, twitching as their half sparks reestablished into one. Magnus winced as Elita kicked him in the shin plates signaling her desire to stand alone. Grunting at the dent left, he picked up both metal Allspark cube pieces.

"Now what? Besides needing a hammer from dealing with that femme of yours."

"We welcome our new arrivals, and deal with the rest later. You have command until Ratchet clears all spark related issues," Optimus vented softly, physically holding Elita but no echo from her spark to his. Four hours later he contemplated sneaking away with her to their private quarters and out of med bay.

"You do and I will override your bedroom door locks," Ratchet clicked two wrenches together in front of Optimus face plates. His blue optics flared against his yellow green armor. "And don't look innocent. Your optics are locked on her and your system just increased. Being out of alignment is not spark threatening, annoying at best. And not that you need to know, Chromia and Ironhide already spark merged. Snuck off into the energon storage room instead of reporting here."

"And?" Optimus asked.

"They merged perfectly then separated back to different patterns," Ratchet rolled his optics. "I denied them the opportunity for a second attempt. Chromia threatened to remove my processors next recharge." The medic stepped back, hiding his wrenches into his arm plates.

"Wheeljack is finishing readings on the cube pieces now. And Annabelle Lennox is patiently waiting to talk to you with Ultra Magnus. The new arrivals are settling in, choosing alt forms and working their way through the nightmare that is the human culture. New Autobots and human recruits. Learning times ten and potential disaster magnified. All we need now is a Decepticon seeking asylum to make the disaster mix perfect."

"Your bedside manner needs improvement," Elita commented, stepping on front of him, pushing him backwards as she moved to stand by her mate. "Wait, you missed that upgrade for advanced wrench throwing compensator replacement didn't you?"

The sound of human cheers and applause sound clip played as Bumblebee bobbed his head to the side. Sam slept soundly in his metal arms, wrapped in a padded quilt, Mikeala sleeping on the recharge berth by them both.

Ultra Magnus walked in the room, Annabelle sitting comfortable on his upraised hand. "We have a idea to reassemble the Allspark," he started.

"But we all have to help," she finished.

_To be continued…_


	49. Chapter 49 Getting closer

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Keeps me going. :) Rule 200 is based on reader comments about them laughing at work or in a library and getting odd looks. Seemed appropriate for that number. 205 is the Transformers take on an impossible idea as they are alien mechanical life forms dealing with a young, warring race that believes in its own superiority and scientific knowledge. Apparently Prowl read the concept in several other fics and was not pleased. He's been bugging me on it. Amazing how a calm, logical mech can be so darn annoying!

More story arc and deepening the plot and players. Good way to reach chapter 50 yes? Try to rebuild the Allspark though there are still a few twists coming. Onward to young minds and old plans.

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_200. Do not review, upload or download confidential material regarding the Autobots, NEST or incidents that occur therein that could become a potential security leak in public places including libraries, cyber cafes, or places or personnel smart phones. _

Will Lennox smiled at the librarian, keeping an eye on Annabelle at the same time. She browsed the non-fiction and reference racks, selecting various thick books for reasons only the little girl knew. Her three-ring notebook quickly filled with hand written notes. The notebook represented a major concession, won after an argument that had started in their quarters on base. "Can't I take a datapad disguised as a laptop daddy?"

"No sweetie. Rules apply to everyone, even us," he reminded.

"Nah huh. Transformers are a secret and we know more than we tell the government in your reports," the little girl stated while holding her Rufus doll, a cross between a teddy bear and Optimus with his battle mask engaged.

"That's because people read the reports that shouldn't or steal them. And no changing the subject young lady. No advanced alien technology and Rufus can stay in the trunk while we are in the library," he reached for the stuffed toy, and then sighed as she hugged it tighter, actually turning away from him. Her face had the same stubborn set his wife did.

"No! Rufus stays safe on my bed. I'll get my notebook from my room."

He returned his attention to the computer screen, continuing to read Epps report on the latest prank by the twins. Laughing, he wiped at tears then noticed the counter worker approaching him.

"Sir, please be quiet or you will be asked to leave," the librarian warned. Other library patrons shot him sideline glances, seeing an athletic man with a brush hair cut acting oddly. His grey t-shirt and blue jeans were ordinary though his highly polished boots offered a clue. He blushed, nodding without a word and returned to the e-mail. Then lost it laughing reading the next paragraph.

"Okay, okay," he gasped, sides heaving. A quick click shut down the link then stripped the files as people nervously watched him. "We're leaving. No problems." Chuckling, he wrapped an arm around his daughter's shoulders, guiding her out.

"I wasn't done daddy," she pouted, holding the notebook against her.

"Sorry pumpkin. Order the books online and I will have them shipped to the base. Want ice cream before we catch the ferry back?" He offered the bribe that worked on both women in his life.

"Yes!" the six year old yelled; her research project about light frequencies, sound acoustics, and mathematical formulas for cube shapes temporarily forgotten. The security camera on the outside of the building turned, following their car until it left the library parking lot. Two traffic cams followed their route until they stopped at the cyber café. No human noticed the security camera above the cash register change from recording the counter clerk making change to the man and his daughter.

In space above, the military satellite displayed the images, the silver energy tentacles of Soundwave enslaving its technology to his systems. "Confirmed. Lennox youngling is link to Allspark. Analysis dictates her assistance in its rejoining. Failure imminent without additional knowledge." A sparkling silver tentacle slid across the metal panels, sliding through its molecular structure to the circuit motherboards. The signal pulse was noiseless in space as it transmitted. On Diego Garcia, the datapad in Annabelle's room activated, receiving advanced data in the form of lessons, overriding her normal schooling.

"Fourteen modules completed satisfactorily without Autobot detection. One more necessitated. Allspark essential for Cybertron's survival. Success required." Soundwave filed her data, assigning a lower holding processor to monitor the Lennox family while he concentrated on the live results finale of his favorite singing television show. His eyes glowed red in anticipation. "100% probability preferred choice will win. Confirmation of four million, three hundred thousand votes received from my relays last night for him."

_205. Do not attempt to change what you cannot and realize human behavior is irrational, unplanned and not common. We have friends as well as enemies among their race. _

Prowl carried the human male carefully, his white metal fingers encasing the struggling man without injury. The profanities were ignored but recorded as potential evidence. "Resistance is futile. You lack the strength and authority to free yourself. Repeated struggling will result in self inflicted injury."

Optimus and the assembled Autobots paused their meeting on the main tarmac as the man's yelling was clearly heard. Prowl approached, his vocal tone louder as he provided an explanation.

"Henry Reeves, an assigned delegate from the adminstration's science department research team. Apprehended breaking into med bay and attempting to hack the central database. He refused to identify himself and demanded we give him our technology databases without providing a valid reason to violate the treaty between his race and ours."

"What have you to say for yourself?" Optimus gave him the chance to answer.

"We need that data. You freaks are a security risk! Millions will die if you remain loose. We have a plan. You can help or we will force you to comply!" he snarled, the anger reverberating through his entire body.

"Comply how?" Optimus asked, his regal baritone devoid of emotion.

"Turn you human! Control you!" he screamed.

Most of the Autobots openly laughed while Optimus felt disgust. Prowl continued to hold the human, tightening his fingers a fraction.

Ironhide lowered his face in close while keeping his arms and cannons tucked back and quiet. "You humans cannot even keep your e-mail from crashing. How would you change our spark and advanced intellect with thousands of years of memories into fleshling forms? You lack the medical technology to repair your own bodies, control heart disease or prevent diabetes from excessive weight gain."

The man sputtered his face nearly purple with rage, "You will bow to us! Do what we want! You will be weak and controllable! You have no choice!"

Ironhide stepped up and back, exchanging places with Optimus. "We will never be human. Your control is an illusion. We can return to space and you may attempt to 'handle' the Decepticons," his optics glowed brightly as his silver battle mask slid into place as battle routines engaged. "You need us. We do not need you. Remove him."

Prowl turned precisely, relaying a request to the base MP's for restraining cuffs and a gag as he carried the man towards the human brig. The man screamed threats the entire way, sputtering nearly incoherently.

"Is that possible?" Sunstreaker asked, his yellow armored hand fingering the drop catch for his energon sword.

"No!" Ratchet and Wheeljack stated firmly.

"Not even our technology could enable a transfer," Red Alert affirmed. Assistant medic to Ratchet, he knew their races capabilities and science sufficiently to please his tyrannical boss.

"Vain imaginings of a sick mind," Optimus stated, sliding his mask back to its side locks. "The matter will be handled."

The next morning they received an update on the man. "The plane never arrived at Nellis Air Force Base," Major Lennox announced, though he said it calmly.

"Was it supposed to?" Mudflap asked, snickering with his twin Skids.

"Where?" Optimus asked as he focused on them. "There were other personnel on the plane."

"Egypt. He wanted to know more right? Egypt Pennsylvania that is!" He laughed, his round mech body falling down and rolling on the floor.

"He could have called except we linked his phone to a new website," Sunstreaker joined the discussion.

"What website?"

"Nothing too bad Prime," Sideswipe smirked while tucking both metal arms behind his back. "Report an idiot dot com. Listed his cell phone number for direct contact and home phone as alternate. Figured he could use the company, maybe find a mate?"

Optimus snickered while keeping his external expression neutral. "No harm then."

Ultra Magnus raised one hand to be recognized. "He can change the number while opening boxes."

::He ordered lots of things from late night infomercials. All waiting at his mailbox when he does arrive home:: Bumblebee sent, playing the audio clips of several late night commercials.

"He can return them all for a refund after correcting a minor detail," Volt mentioned, sparking small shocks between his metal fingers.

"We ahh, reported him as dead. Disconnected all his billings, cancelled credit cards and posted an obituary," Red Alert explained, his red and white face neutral with a professional bedside manner look.

"Why?" Ratchet faced him, curious how they had done it without him knowing it.

"His brain obviously died years ago. Figured his body was next and we help notify everyone," Hound quipped, the scout's tone bordering on laughter.

"Anything else I should know?" He asked one last time, both amused and exasperated at his troops antics.

::Tell Prime the rest?:: Sideswipe

::He used the words _should know_. What he doesn't know:: Sunstreaker

::And doesn't find out will not brig us. Good point. And a Decepticon has to be close to receive the Autobot signal the human now emits:: Sideswipe

::Told you that confiscated implant could be useful. And the procedure never even left a scar on his aft. Last place a doctor would x-ray and discover it:: Sunstreaker

::Any Decepticon will blast him the astro second they detect it, assuming it is one of us or one of our holograms and we are nearby. Should have been nice and stayed with us:: Sideswipe sent then concentrated on the others.

"His plan was pure drivel. Easier to make a human into a transformer," Ratchet said, disgusted.

"Human with transform abilities or alt mode? Armor like their combat gear that changes? Hmm, possible," Wheeljack pondered, his processors beginning to design a white power suit.

**Story Arc (continued)**

Med bay was quiet as the occupants focused on Annabelle and Ultra Magnus waiting by the main doors.

"We have an idea to reassemble the Allspark," he started.

"But we all have to help," she finished.

"Then we shall Annabelle," Optimus acknowledged.

"You haven't heard our idea. Though it's mostly hers and not mine. How can you be sure it will work?"

"She's a Prime though I recently was informed of that fact," Optimus stated while locking optics with a certain black armored weapons specialist and oldest personal friend.

"I'm being serious," Magnus frowned, optics lightly spinning as he watched the little girl sitting quietly on his massive palm.

"She is a Prime." Both Ratchet and Ironhide stated in unison.

"It's true? And you all knew?" Magnus sputtered as he faced them.

"The ancient Primes contacted us," Ironhide explained, folding his arms and optics focusing anywhere but at Optimus and Magnus.

"Contacted him then me. Imagine my shock," Ratchet snorted.

"Finding out a human was a Prime?" Magnus asked, reconsidering the being he was holding.

"No, seeing ancient primes and lug head there already talking to them," Ratchet rolled his optics, pointing over at Ironhide. He swatted at the medic's armored arm, charging his cannons briefly. Ironhide sheepishly faced Optimus.

"I was the first bot to volunteer for your team and your bodyguard Prime. For thousands of years, I watched your back and stood by your side in battle. Took hits meant for you, never letting my processors rest to keep you safe. Then you did not need me," he vented rapidly before continuing. "The Primes contacted me in recharge, asked if I would watch over her. I uhm, knew before any other bot or even her. That's why she has the tracker locket, the mini teletran, and I changed my transform around the child seat. Just didn't say."

"Intelligent conversation is not your strong point," Ratchet teased. "I needed to know to monitor for changes and to hide what she was same as Sam. The other humans would not have understood and we could not let them be harmed."

"Do her parental units know?" Prowl asked. The silence was answer enough.

"Tell daddy and mommy later. We need to fix the matrix and use the metal now we have the baby pieces."

"What metal?" Sam asked, yawning and sitting up inside of Bumblebee's arms.

"The sun reaper machine," she waved her arms up and down as if they should have known. "Its ancient metal and handles lots of power."

"Enough to destroy a sun," Magnus realized.

"And harness the power of a matrix, the direct link to the original Allspark," Optimus added.

Magnus nodded. "Our idea was tried before successfully. Remember when Iacon's power conduit number four bridge was shattered? You were still Orion Pax and a welder."

Optimus' optics dimmed as the memory was retrieved and reviewed. "An unusual accident severed the lines. The technique for the non-conductive metal interlink was lost with the original builders. That was my first time leading my own repair team."

"As you reminded me for the next multiple vorns once you made Prime and we traveled that way. I swear you deliberately took the long way to brag about your work." He leaned back on the wall, crossing one metal leg in front of the other.

"It was a brilliant piece of reconstruction. We used original materials, supplemented and let the energy slowly seep back until it was restored, taking orns," Optimus countered, a smug look on his face plates. "I loved that bridge. First time Elita and I sparked was under it."

"Hey! Younglings present!" she snapped, pointing at the humans as the other Autobots chirped and clicked in their native language, teasing them both.

"Brilliant indeed," Wheeljack's side bars flashed rainbow colors before settling. "I don't even know where to start now however. Design schematics could take orns."

"You don't have to," Annabelle interrupted. "Transport the metal to a big flat area and the little cubes will do the rest. Like a puzzle."

"How will that work?" his side bars flashed blue and green in curiosity.

"Don't know. But we can try with a small piece if you don't believe me," she pouted at the scientist and inventor.

A couple of breems later, the research hangar was cleared and readied. The Autobots, three humans and cube pieces were ready. Sam and Mikeala held hands, talking quietly as they stood next to Bumblebee. "You're up," he told Annabelle once the last sensor was readied and activated.

She stepped forward, holding one hand over the misshaped cube fragment. It glowed blue then unfolded into a wing shape as did the second piece. She walked one to the far right and the other to the far left before returning to stand dead center, facing the twenty foot plus spire of silver metal from the sun reaper machine. Its end was jagged, charred black from the backlash and crunched.

"Readings are incredible. Our sparks are aligning to a new pattern and the power indicators are unique enough to barely even register," Wheeljack whispered in near awe.

"They are Allspark fragments," Prowl reminded, pointing at the nearest piece.

"No, her," he rotated wide blue optics towards Annabelle. The metal spire shivered then rotated onto its side, spinning out pieces like gossamer threads towards the cube fragments. Blue energy arced as the silver metal changed to golden brown and reshaped into cubes, filling in missing shapes on the wing-like pieces.

"Mental and physical enhancements come with being Prime. Then one of three specifics is chosen by each being. Advanced telekinetic ability over metal in its various forms. Expanded knowledge and wisdom to lead or a lifelong commitment with high personal costs. You're seeing her choice," Optimus explained quietly.

"The Fallen had the same metal telekinetic ability didn't he?" Wheeljack asked, intently recording the readings.

"He did. But he had tens of thousands of years practice before the Egyptian pyramid and used his staff as a focal point."

"You chose wisdom and knowledge," Magnus pointed at Optimus.

"Not originally," Optimus admitted, "I chose metal telekinetic."

"What made you change?" Prowl asked, intrigued his files were missing that bit of data.

"Practice with the ability went perfectly and I did abuse it a little during meetings or around fellow Autobots to relieve boredom. First time I tried it in battle, I reached for a Decepticon intending to pull him closer into target range of my energon rifle. We collided and his spark shattered. Field medics had to literally peel his armor from mine and bring me out of stasis lock." Optimus rubbed his forehead with one blue armored hand. "The impact nearly split my helm into two. I left this indented shape in the lower center of my blue headpiece as a reminder."

"And before I was released from med bay, I had endured four meetings, two reviews and three consultations with administrative staff. I chose wisdom and experience. Spent the vorns since learning how to use what I know."

"Sam," Mikeala looked at him, "Don't lie to me. You have never lifted a thing in your life other than food to your mouth. And your shirt buttoned wrong tells me you passed on wisdom. What did you choose? What is the third option?" She turned to face Optimus.

"There is no word in the English language except Ambassador. It is openness in your life to others and the passing of skills and ability to those beings surrounding you and the next generations. Guardian, tech and master in a specialized field. Once a mate is chosen, it is for life. But any femme will share his time with responsibilities and may come last in priorities. It is intensity to the point of obsession and lifelong," Ratchet stated.

A decreasing hum sound interrupted them all. Annabelle slumped to the floor, head down as the cubes settled onto the hangar concrete, multiple times their original size and L shaped. Not a trace of the sun reaper metal remained.

Ratchet medically scanned her as Ironhide cradled her small form between his black armored hands. "Relative suspended sensory and motor activity with increased caloric intake is required."

"Tired. I'm hungry," Annabelle said softly.

"That is what I stated," Ratchet turned his face plates up to a smile, sneaking a brightly colored mini lollypop out of his armor. He ignored Ironhide's warning growl and Prowl's data burst of the rule regarding no bot giving Annabelle sugar.

"Then it's decided," Optimus declared. "We will retrieve all the remaining parts of the sun reaper and meet tomorrow to assist in the reformatting of a new Allspark. Until then, Wheeljack and Ratchet will monitor each of us for unintended results. Anything else?"

"Who informs Major Lennox and his spark mate that their offspring is a Prime and necessary to rebuild the Allspark? That her presence is required when tomorrow is a school day?" Prowl asked.

_To be continued…_


	50. Chapter 50 Continuing with new friends

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and can you believe it? 50 chapters! 50 and supersized to enjoy! And over 750 reviews! Woohoo! Keep it up, and this series will go to 200 chapters. *Ratchet snorts* Thinks human bodies are too fragile for such extended laughter.

Spark mates, twin trouble, recruits on the obstacle course, computer issues and more Allspark story arc. Introductions to several of the newly arrived Autobots, even if only names or alt modes. I tried to pick ones not already listed as they were left on Cybertron. The silver femme is an original character and currently named Silverblade. More of her and Cybertron early war history to come in the next story arc. Diego Garcia is in the Indian Ocean and the exact continent area in the story arc is not mentioned other than being dry, hot and remote. Onward to being surprised, screaming at the time and laughing at it later.

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_172. Do not modify, alter or adjust human computers and related systems unless specifically ordered to do so, have the changes cleared and authorized, however simple and easy their technology is to "fix." _*Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Bumblebee and Perceptor.

It was quiet inside the main Autobot hangar, the clicking of keyboards on the rolling communications platform the only sounds. Four Autobots stood in their area, watching and waiting for Optimus to return. Ironhide stayed away from the twins, keeping a wary optic on them both. Silverbolt faced the outer wall, occasionally nodding or gesturing as he carried on a private conversation with his combiner teammates. They were being checked out by Ratchet. Sunstreaker watched the human tech make a fist and swear at his computer screen displaying the error message.

"Emotional aren't they? Screaming, yelling, and crying at those messages," Sideswipe commented, noticing his yellow twins' focus.

"Need to learn control," Ironhide grunted and ignored the twin's startled looks his way.

::Did that planet blowing cannon carrying mech use the word 'control?':: Sideswipe

::Apparently. Maybe Chromia got him a word of the day calendar like the humans use:: Sunstreaker

::Humans are obsessive over their language. Yet those messages are so vague. How about we make them clearer?:: Sideswipe smirked, an idea already forming between them.

Two hours later, Major Lennox sat down at the center console and hesitated. He drummed his fingers, trying to recall the log-on numerical password. "Is it this one that is my old rank? The date I married Sarah or when Annabelle was born?" type type type type enter. A basic system warning window popped up main screen.

"_**Warning: Incorrect password entered. Try again and get it right please." **_

He blinked at the message, "Hmm, least they said please." Type type type type enter.

"_**That's two and counting dumb aft. Two chances left. Tick tock engage password lock."**_ Type type type type enter.

"_**Reach up and check to see if brain is still inside skull before attempting next and last password attempt. I love having to lock you out and using my break time to recover lost passwords by e-mail for the thousandth time. Not!"**_ Type type type type enter.

"_**Congratulations! You got it. Write password down for next time and get to work. If you can remember why you were logging on in the first place."**_ Will swiveled his chair around, gesturing for the on-duty master systems tech. "Do we have new programmers? Or I miss a memo on error messages?"

The man looked serious, tipping his glasses down. "We did upgrades yesterday. Adjustments to all systems. Following higher up orders to simplify into plain English. Problems?" He pulled his notepad out of his pocket, ready to make a note.

"No, keeping up with the latest. Thanks." The report was quickly typed out, edited, spell checked and the print icon clicked. One second passed without the familiar sound of the printer warming up and the print icon was clicked rapidly again. The basic system warning window popped up.

"_**Print one (1) copy or you have twitchy fingers?"**_ Will closed the message window then moved the mouse over the print icon and clicked it again rapidly. Same warning window, different message appeared center screen.

"_**How many copies did you want? There is a field to pick that last screen. Look before clicking next time speed racer!" **_He clicked the icon again.

"_**Fine, kill a tree. Here you go as requested."**_ Twenty copies spit out of the printer, squealing at full speed then rattled as the ink slider jammed in place. Will dove for the copies, unplugging the machine as it continued to shake.

"Why can't these things be simple? Tell it to work and it does." The mouse arrow moved to the far right red x t o close the file. The background hourglass appeared and he clicked the symbol again. He did not even sigh as the warning message appeared center screen.

"_**Patience is a virtue. You need some. Continue with shut down? Yes or no?"**_ He clicked yes then clicked it again when nothing immediately happened. Eyes narrowed as the message changed.

"_**Be patient. The program is shutting down. Go get coffee sheesh."**_ He clicked the corner x again.

"_**Dude, drop the coffee. Too edgy. Learn how to relax. Better yet, we'll give you time to go and play outside. "**_ Then the program beeped and shut down his station, shouts and yells on either side as the entire platform closed itself out in sequence. Biting his lower lip, he picked up his copies and quietly left down the main stairs. 'This is not my fault. I know a Transformer is behind this. And I know which two to start with,' he reasoned but never thought to check the reports he printed. He really should have.

_167. Do not ignore or disregard battle preparations over former experiences and training. Every situation is different and a single detail can separate a "mission" from "merging with the matrix." Humans are forgetful and easily stressed; we are often their only backup and help._

"Listen up!" Major Will Lennox ordered the soldiers surrounding him. The sun was sinking behind the horizon, the last of its light fading into night. Bright blue optics above their heads provided a focus point as Ratchet, Ironhide and Silverbolt stood nearby in their bi pedal modes, chirping and clicking in their native language.

"This is our first combined drill, new recruits and newly arrived Transformers. Humans, you got your briefings and better have read them! The Autobots uploaded theirs. I expect execution with prejudice and no errors." The roar of unseen jets close overhead made several cringe before they laughed nervously. Will waited until they calmed down, barely keeping the smile from his face.

"Simulation is a night attack in unfamiliar territory. Sabot rounds are replaced with bright blue paint rounds and Transformer weapons were offlined by the medics Ratchet and Red Alert. Don't worry about getting tagged. Their weaponry is replaced with mini red paint rounds. Any questions?"

"Is this really necessary? There's a game on tonight!" A voice wisecracked from the back of the soldiers.

"Funny Epps," Will shouted. "You baby-sit while I hang with the professionals," he jerked his thumb towards the three Autobots. "Well? Move it!" The soldiers, male and female readied their weapons and climbed over the first wall, staying together, senses straining as they moved ahead from streetlight to streetlight on the simulated city blocks. Silverbolt closed his optics, powerful jets slowly lifting his silver figure straight up into the clouds and beyond view.

Will nodded to Ironhide who fiddled with a control on his arm. The ancient warrior focused on the other side of the course, targeting the main power relay. A round launcher slid out between his black knuckle plates, releasing green balls of energy. Dead on, they hit the power unit, coating it with a green glow before they sizzled out. "EMP effective. Human technology disabled," he chuckled, retracting the device.

Lights, radios and watches simply stopped. Swearing reverberated in the dark as they realized night goggles were not part of their current gear. The moon was rising, its light nearly indistinguishable. A rotating circle of white light appeared over the moon before drifting down, slowly spinning. The UFO shape hovered, and then bobbed across the course to hover above the recruits. A bright flash and it was gone, zipping to the west.

"That was Cosmos," Ratchet commented. "I knew letting Skids and Mudflap introduce movie night was a bad idea. His transform is the space ship from _The day the earth stood still_. An alt mode to disguise our true identities and he picks a UFO spaceship!"

Weapons fire lit up the night as tracers spaced out between blue paint. "What are they shooting at?" Will grumbled then glanced up at the Autobots chuckling.

"Gears and Brawn moved in early. Forgot to disconnect their alt mode brake lights," Ratchet said. "Recruits thought they were Decepticon red optics. Their afts are bright blue!"

"Now it gets good!" Ironhide formed a smirk as the very air around them condensed. Massive silent shapes moved, unseen to human eyes but recognized by multiple Cybertronian sensors. The recruits instinctively huddled together, back-to-back and facing outward. The barest whisper of a sound betrayed an alien presence. High up, a single pair of blue optics snapped open, identifying a very tall bot that towered over them. Around in a circle, four more sets of optics opened, all very high and all focused on the recruits. Snaps echoed as five glowing energon swords appeared out of subspace. The screaming and firing began.

Will shook his head, covering his face with his hands while Ratchet and Ironhide collapsed into a laughing fit. "I told them they would have air support. To wait for the Aerialbots before advancing. The report stated it was a ground attack of mid size runners not seekers. Red eyes usually mean Decepticon and blue friendly. Do they read anything?" He pulled at his hair, praying the Aerialbots fighting the 'Decepticons,' their fellow Autobots, would miss crushing any humans.

When it ended, there was purple paint layering every recruit, the blue of their own cross fire and the red of the attackers. The Aerialbots were spotted from their knee plates down and griped before transforming into their jet modes, dipping into the ocean and back up, washing the color off. The other Autobots waited at the wash racks, letting humans assist, ignoring the laughing and photos being snapped. Except for Gears and Brawn, they transformed to wash their own chassis.

_182. Do not befuddle humans with details about our mechanical existence that are unnecessary or not relevant. There are things they need to know and understand while other data must not fall into their hands. _

Captain Jorgensen keyed the copier, turning and facing Sheila. "I don't know whether to be offended or pleased we got stuck copying these tests."

"Because we're women and this is office work?" Sheila asked.

"Not even," She smirked. "Favorite prank around here is for this or other equipment to be drones. Come alive and either attack or head for the airstrip. Have to stop them before a plane tries to land and wrecks. Why else did I say come armed?" She tapped the mini pulsar cannon on her shoulder. "Part test making for the class and test of our skills to protect."

"Do the new Autobots have to do this? Take tests on humans?" Sheila asked, reading down through the first printed page.

"Nope, they access the web for anything they want to know."

"Oh no!" She groaned. "They're going to think we're all perverted, oversexed, pill taking, get rich, music stealing, shallow I'm doing this right now narcissistic, Hollywood bump watching, latest diet fad voyeurs!"

"Think that of you! I am out of here," tech specialist Larry Knight exclaimed, leaning in the doorway. "Fast as I pack my bags!"

"Wuss," Sheila muttered but loud enough he could hear.

"What did you call me?" He scowled even as Jorgensen took a stance alongside Sheila.

"Sissy, momma's boy, cupcake, powder puff. Tuck your tail and run," Sheila challenged, moving closer with each insult.

"You'll die with those robots!" He warned.

"They're Autobots slag brain. Autonomous sentient beings with personality and emotions. Alien and ancient but safe. I have a better chance of dying in a car crash via a drunk driver or teenager texting than a Decepticon! Drinking and smoking has taken more of my family than a war over a hundred thousand years old!" Sheila stated.

"Best of all, they watch out for us," Jorgensen said, her green eyes snapping with anger.

"By not stepping on us?" he whined.

"I go with them; they don't leer at me, seeing a pretty body or expect anything from me other than professionalism. I never have to wonder if they are going to grab or attack me," Sheila gestured at her near perfect model like body. Six foot one; her athletic frame had more people looking at her body than looking into her eyes.

"They do not kill for percentage points, bump off competition for a job promotion or lose their temper and commit crimes of passion. Their serial killers are Decepticons, wear purple emblems and have red eyes filled with their hate. Ours live in our neighborhoods and attack our children. You tell me which race is more dangerous," Jorgensen challenged. His eyes darkened with emotion before turning and leaving them without another word.

"Me? I intend to stick close in a battle," Sheila pretended to review a checklist. "Energon sword, check. Pulse rifle, charged. Targeting locks, fully functional. Human shaped backpack named Sheila Mitchell, check!" She giggled.

The high pitched scream of the battle alarm sent the women running for the airstrip. Teams were formed and routed out to investigate and intercept possible Decepticon sightings. The twins and their human recruits returned first. An attempt to sneak out a test for cheating resulted in the twin's discovery of its existence.

"A test on us? How kind," Sunstreaker read the questions then rolled his optics. "Too general, too blasé and boring. Let's fix this shall we?" Minutes later, the tests were assembled, stapled and ready to return to Major Lennox. Page two and three had alterations.

_5. Sleeping is to humans as recharge is to Transformers. How to know when in recharge? _

_a. Optics closed, chassis not moving and weapons fire when you get too close. (We'll apologize when we wake up to whatever is left.)_

_b. Anytime a Transformer is in their private quarters on a recharge berth._

_c. There is a holographic "Do Not Disturb' sign on chest plates displaying in several languages._

_d. All of the above_

_7. Optimus Prime has chains in his alt mode because:_

_a. The original Peterbilt did for the long trailer loads it hauled_

_b. The Prime is in touch with his heavy metal side_

_c. Megatron has lots of wicked metal, this is his version_

_d. Forgets his own mass and we use them to haul him out of sand and mud_

_9. Jet Judo is effective on Decepticons but not human aircraft:_

_a. Human jets are too dumb to know when they are beaten_

_b. Human pilots screaming ruin the effect_

_c. Jets all look alike until they crash_

_d. Unless you fly why do you care?_

_12. Who is more dangerous to your paint job? _

_a. Ironhide and his cannons_

_b. Ratchet and his wrenches_

_c. Any femme and her temper_

_d. All of the above_

_17. Can a human spark with a Transformer?_

_a. Do humans have sparks? Then no! Sparking requires a spark._

_b. Only if human wants to be a crispy critter charred corpse the one AND only time attempted._

_c. Did this question really take studying?_

_d. None of the above_

_19. Humans use the restroom every day. A sparkling needs tank flushing daily, a youngling weekly and an adult Transformer?_

_a. None of your business unless you're a Transformer._

_b. Once a month and total systems flush every six months. _

_c. You will know when by the smell._

_d. Ask any Transformer and you will regret it._

_e. Better have picked B as in be knowledgeable without being intrusive_

_Bonus (Briefly describe the command structure on the battlefield between NEST humans and Autobot Officers) 10 points for listing all Autobot names, ranks and skills to save your fleshing hide. _

_Super bonus (20 points for information gathering skills:) Which femme is currently (unofficially) carrying a sparkling? _

The test was handed out that afternoon when the last discovery team returned. Major Lennox and his staff were debriefing over the lone encounter with Decepticon drones and never read the finished version until the next morning. By then a copy had been seen by nearly everyone, an illegal version snapped by a camera phone and uploaded onto the mainframe for emailing.

_179. Do not become obsessed with relationships like the humans. A mistake on our part can last vorns and broken sparks affect every bot._

Chromia and Elita strode across the tarmac in their bi pedal modes, returning the greetings of the human soldiers before continuing their conversation.

"Under a bridge to Iacon? And you had the audacity to tease me and Ironhide about the target range?" Chromia snickered, hiding her smirk behind a dark blue armored hand.

"We went there for a different reason," Elita stated, refusing to be goaded.

"Right. And you believed him? Come see my bridge?" the femme pretended to sigh and blink her optics like a spark struck youngling.

"He did want to show me the finished bridge conduits. The under supports were his design and workmanship. You know how bridges are constructed?" She gestured left to right, "main supports for holding," then shifted her hand in spaces left to right, "with set supports to reinforce at critical junctures? He designed the pattern to show both our names in ancient Cybertronian glyphs; Ariel and Orion."

"That is so romantic! And they let him get away with that?" Chromia gasped, stepping over an armored personnel carrier.

"The redesign was unique and it worked. No inspectors, no second guessers and the only other architect never said if he noticed the pattern. Your optics have to be directly under the center span and scan from one side to the other." She edged out and around the raptor jets waiting to be fueled.

"And war destroyed all of Iacon, that bridge included," Chromia sighed. "Let me guess, your spark pulsed with feeling and you two?"

"No, we didn't. We talked about spark merging but the war was already escalating. I spoke of joining the war effort and he hesitated. We decided to wait. Thought we had forever. You know the rest. The near fatal attack by the Decepticons. The rebuilding of our frames by Alpha Trion and taking new names and identities. After Optimus accepted the matrix of leadership and became Prime, we returned to the bridge and he told me my love was the strength to keep him solid. He would never forget where we started together. Ariel and Orion."

"He did? Wow," Chromia's optics rotated wide. "So you lost your spark to him then?"

"No, my spark gained everything. A mech who spent orns designing our names into a bridge showed me he processes things long term. Oh, he messed up big time leaving me on Cybertron to follow the Allspark," she vented hard, still exasperated. "But he never challenged my right to fight. Passed his rifle to me without mentioning his new one was still in the design stage. Wheeljack and the others made it fast and barely tested it before he took it into battle. Lug head." She paused before the main hangar, turning to face the Indian Ocean. "He may rule the Cybertron forces but he has never pulled rank on me in our private life and would offline before hurting me physically. I worry he has too many safety locks and protocols. Unlike your mech," she pointed at Chromia and the ding in her shoulder armor.

"Combat range not private recharge. Not that it is your business Commander," Chromia retorted merrily. "I like our enthusiasm."

"Too much!" Elita giggled, covering her rose colored audio sensors. "Nah nah nah." She lowered her hands, becoming serious. "I'm going to see Optimus. Problem adapting human metals to our repair needs. Ratchet is cranky and throwing wrenches at any bot to enter med bay. "

"When is he not?" Chromia teased in parting.

_184. Do not ignore Cybertronian customs and courtesy based on traditions not being relevant on earth. Location does not change manners and the humans can learn from our example. _

Optimus, living holder of the Matrix of Leadership and carrier of the sun reaper ancient matrix, designated Prime, commander of Cybertron Autobot forces and earth team leader raised his optics as the door to his office flung open. Ultra Magnus entered without greeting, courtesy or acknowledgment.

"Prime you have got to fix a problem," he stomped in, folding his blue arms while optics focused on the mech seated behind the desk. Armored legs wide and locked, he stood ready for battle, lacking only his weapons.

"I was working on problems when you entered," Optimus mildly rebuked him. The idea to install a lock on his office door fluttered through his process before dismissal. 'Half my team would blast it anyway. Spend more time replacing it than using it. I bet Megatron is never disturbed. Least not more than once.' A single tap of his square metal fingertip and the datapad report went into stand by.

"Not this problem though you are the best one to handle it," Magnus vented rapidly.

"If I knew the problem, I might know the solution. Prime means I lead, not read processors," he folded his massive blue armored hands one over the other on the desktop and resisted the urge to use his command voice and order an explanation.

"It's that crazy mate of yours, no disrespect. She is driving me slagging crazy!" he gestured wildly, optics spinning. "I have more impact injuries from her than most 'Cons, she is irresponsible and irritating! 'Watch her' you tell me! I would rather watch those Skids and Mudflap. I can knock sense by slamming them together."

Optimus sternly controlled his lip plates least his amusement show. He tilted his head to the side, presenting the appearance of a concerned and listening senior officer.

"The only femme worse is Chromia! Least she will put you in med bay for physical injuries! Elita is going to trip my processors. Does not like her alt form then keeps it. Spends more time bi pedal than in disguise off base. Commander and battle trained or not, we cannot afford to risk her or we risk you," the commander stopped striding side to side and paused before the desk.

"She is experienced and earned her rank," his vocal tones carried the faintest tone of warning. "We are both aware of the risks of war. What is the problem I need to consider?"

Magnus gestured as if the answer should be obvious. "Her on this planet. Her behavior is becoming irrational!" the mech snapped his arms out, palms open before gesturing skyward. "No mech will be on the obstacle course with her or say pit to her least she rip out their processors. Only the twins Sideswipe and Sunstreaker even consider it and that's consider, not challenge."

"I was unaware of the extent of the ...situation Commander. Have you consulted a medical officer or approached her?"

"Ratchet believes all the femmes were affected by the subspace jumps and once this Allspark mess is done they can sync back. There is no medical condition according to his diagnosis. He refused to discuss Elita, stating maybe I had a processing error and needing review. Me! Now I'm scheduled for an exam I don't need."

"You disagree with his professional opinion?" His tone was neutral.

"Chromia is practically welded to Ironhide while Elita ran Jazz and Wheeljack off the main road because quote, 'they were going to slow ahead of me.' Silverblade tackled Bumblebee in the hangar without an explanation and Arcee nearly blasted Hot Rod when he accidentally woke her from recharge on the beach. The beach! Sand and grit in gears and she was sleeping on it. And yes, I would tell any femme what I believe." He stated.

"Even Elita?" Optimus asked, his optics spinning lightly with merriment.

"Especially Elita. I would tell her exactly what I have told you."

"No need," a feminine higher pitched mechanical voice acknowledged. Magnus froze, energon surging as systems frantically computed which wall to blast for an escape as he turned. The office door slowly swung back towards the frame, revealing Elita leaning on the wall behind it.

"We were working on parts replacement issues when you entered," Optimus gestured towards her and his datapad.

::You could have warned me:: Magnus sent frantically.

::Never paused long enough. Have Ratchet recalibrate your detection sensors in med bay:: Optimus

::I may need more than recalibration shortly. They were offline. This is your office and safe:: Magnus

::If that had been Megatron hiding there?:: Optimus

::He'd run from her too!:: Magnus sent then backed up tight against the desk as Elita approached. She leaned in close, really close.

"So Magnus. Tell me how you really feel."

**Story Arc - Allspark Cube Finale**

Over the mainland, Silverbolt and his precious cargo continued towards their desert rendezvous. The other Aerialbots flew close, ready to engage any interference. Inside the cargo bay, the Autobots and humans readied for landing.

"Was that really necessary?" Optimus asked, focusing on the major.

"Vroom vroom," Will giggled at the Peterbilt alt mode strapped to the cargo floor in front of him, before reaching for the "pretty blue flames."

"His vital showed increasing stress and tension reaching dangerous levels," Ratchet tried to sound professional, parked and secured in his emergency hummer alt mode further ahead in the cargo bay.

"You told him his daughter is a Prime, probable future ruler of Cybertron and earth and had to miss school to reassemble the Allspark as I opened my driver door to let her get out of my alt mode cab to stretch!" Ironhide shook on his axles, facing outward towards the hatch but sensors active.

"Your point?" The green yellow medic asked.

"Tell him first or after but not during!" Ironhide snapped back. Annabelle slept in her car seat inside his cab, oblivious to the earlier excitement. Her sudden appearance with them instead of back at Diego Garcia had nearly sent her father into apoplexy. Ratchet had merely tilted a side mirror, releasing a tranquilizer dart.

"This side effect was unexpected," Ratchet protested.

"Not to us," Sergeant Epps corrected. "Man gets like this drinking. Some get a fifth of courage, others weepy or the life of the party. He gets goofy and injured."

"Injured how?" Ratchet instantly scanned him.

"You don't want to know," various men called out, each gesturing and exclaiming.

"And no running with scissors!" Epps stressed. "Don't even get them near him!"

"Descending," Silverbolt announced as he dove down, air whistling sounds resonating in the hold.

Inside Ironhide's cab, Annabelle stirred. She smiled, stretching and rubbing at her eyes with a curled fist. "Are we there yet?"

"Landing now." Ironhide said, carefully keeping the cab air tight and his systems ready for an emergency landing if anything went wrong. "Be outside shortly. Ready to make a new Allspark kiddo?"

"Uh huh. What about Christmas?"

"Christmas?" the ancient warrior mech repeated confusedly. "It's three months away."

"I know that!" she giggled. "What do I get you and Optimus for Christmas now?"

He sagged on his axles, trying to come up with a suitable response. They bumped once as Silverbolt touched down, lowering the cargo ramp. She leaned forward, her question forgotten as light poured into the hold. "They're here!" She bounced up and down in her seat, still strapped tightly in as Arcee and the other bots waved from the sand. Ironhide triggered the release locks, freeing his wheels to roll.

::Everything is ready Prime:: Arcee sent to Optimus then waved at the little girl through the windshield. Chromia, Firestar and Elita guarded the first Allspark shape. Silverblade, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe guarded the second. The rest of the Autobots faced outward, alert and ready as the final required Primes arrived. Epps carried Will out on his shoulder in a fire carry before setting his boss down. Ratchet transformed then shifted a finger into a mini needle and injected Will's upper arm.

"We are here to attempt to reassemble the Allspark," Optimus began. "It cannot be destroyed, only transformed. Its essence exists in subspace and partly in Sam. Its physical nature is here in fragments. The power in both matrixes. I do not know what will happen, only we must make the attempt. If any bot wishes to leave, now is the time." Only sand scattered in the wind moved. He nodded, gesturing for Ironhide to assist Annabelle.

"Hmm, another unexpected reaction," Ratchet muttered, processors updating medical protocols.

Epps nudged Will's slumped body with his foot. "I thought you said that would wake him up not make him comatose."

"Brain functioning is normal. The drooling and slack expression is a muscular side effect," the green yellow alien medic transformed his fingertip into another needle. "This should correct the first two injections."

Will moaned, rubbing his arm. "I'm not a pin cushion," he slurred his words but they were distinct.

"Hi daddy. Feeling better?" Little blue eyes leaned down to peer into his. "We got work to do. Need coffee?"

"Coffee? No," he licked his lips, swallowing convulsively before sitting up. "What happened?"

"We informed you Annabelle was a Prime," Ratchet stated as the others groaned or winced.

::Remind me to have another bot tell me breaking news:: Ironhide

::Fine, then Chromia can tell you herself later:: Ratchet

::Tell me what? You are a smart bot with no manners? Figured that out first repair:: Ironhide retorted then hushed as Optimus subspace all his weapons out. Every bot pulled weapons, charging systems as scanners reached all directions, bracing for attack.

"Stand down. Remove every subspace connection," he ordered, creating an impressive pile of weapons on the ground.

::All?:: Sideswipe sent privately, his tone bordering on fear.

Optimus nodded then moved to stand by the red warrior mech. ::You will not need them and any subspace field fluctuations could result in disaster. Stand between Sunstreaker and me. Lay your swords within reach behind us:: He switched to verbal commands. "Once we begin I will hold the Matrix of Leadership, you will need to hold the Matrix of the ancient primes until it is needed."

"You would trust me with it?" Optics went wide in disbelief and shock.

"Same as I have my spark," he reassured as the twins conferred over their private twin bond.

"What is all that?" Silverbolt asked, drawing the attention of the other Aerialbots.

"Mine apparently," Wheeljack answered, his side bars bright pink with embarrassment. "Forgot how much I had stored in subspace." The others watched as his pile neared his own height. "It's a scientific thing. Wondered where that pulsar engine gear went," the piece added to the pile. Prowl began twitching before Moonracer steadied him with a hand on his back plates.

"Focus on the work ahead. Not on the piles. Make rules, confiscate items later but focus. We need you online and thinking," she ordered softly. The twitching subsided then faded away. "Good bot."

Annabelle closed her eyes, breathing deeply as Sam did the same, Mikeala holding his hand without distracting. Optimus closed his optics, feeling the matrix within his chest stirring to life. Sideswipe watched the silver spindle shape of the ancient primes matrix in his hands flare deep blue and pulse. Ripples in the air above betrayed the opening of mini subspace pockets.

The pile of silver and charred metal shifted, small pieces rattling to fall onto the sand below. Stretching, twisting silver metal threads formed to slide across the sand towards the cube fragments. The two wing shapes rippled with blue power, drawing the threads in and reshaping them into cubes.

Every femme twitched as their spark shifted. The desire for life, to create, reach and hold a sparkling, to nourish, to protect and watch it until life renewed again flowed across the silver threads wrapping into cubes.

Optimus stumbled, going to one knee as Ironhide stiffened. The moment they sparked with their femmes, merging into one pulse, one life and one desire joined the pulsing energy forming in the circle.

The other bots waited, unsure to interfere or assist when the twins gasped, optics snapping to each other's as their sparks echoed the thrumming beat in the air as the cube continued to grow. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's twin bond solidified, two parts yet a whole, double the joy halving the sorrows and pain. Skids and Mudflap grinned, each being a half of a whole and helpless without the other.

All five of the Aerialbots trembled as they relived the moment they came online, feeling the others linked to their very core, knowing they would never be alone and what they could be together was beyond description.

One by one, the remaining Autobots felt the tug at their essence, pulling memories and the best of what they were. Wheelie shook, scared as optics dimmed one by one. Arcee slid one foot out against him.

::Let go Wheelie. You are one of us now. You knew death and hate as a Decepticon but no more:: Arcee. The little blue bot reached out his arms and wrapped around Arcee's foot before relaxing. His hope added to the Allspark reforming.

Epps and Will gasped, rubbing at their arms as their skin tingled. "It's okay daddy." Annabelle said, eyes closed but looking their way. "It needs us too. We don't know how to quit."

"The Autobots have forgotten war has an end," Sam added, swaying a little as Mikeala wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "They fight and talk of an end as a possibility and not life and peace. After thousands of years of death and loss they wonder who will be the last bot instead of living now and building what will be. That is why they have no sparklings." He turned towards the center before sagging to his knees. Will caught Annabelle as she collapsed, then held her close.

"I love you," he whispered and closed his eyes, focusing on the life he wanted for her. The nearly completed cube exploded outward with light.

THEY WERE ONE

ONE PURPOSE

ONE HOPE

ONE DESIRE FOR LIFE TO BEGIN ANEW

And the cube shape solidified. Moans filled the air as each being settled back into their own existence, no longer connected as a whole, no longer one. Mikeala felt her cheeks, feeling the paths of tears. "Love without judging or conditions," she stammered to Sam, noting his cheeks were wet.

"I never imagined feeling so wanted," he hugged her, burying his face into her hair.

"Autobots have to win this war," Wheelie wiped at his optics, releasing Arcee's foot.

"That is our plan," Optimus said. He remained kneeling, systems nearly drained. Annabelle was in her dad's arms, a look of pure joy on his face.

"It was worth it," he whispered over her sleeping form. "Every sacrifice until now. Prime or not, we'll do this. Telling Sarah, not so well. Ironhide can tell her."

"Me?" Ironhide squeaked before recovering his vocals. "Why me?"

"You knew before anyone else. Only fair. You're her guardian right? She needs a father and I can't be there if Sarah breaks both my legs," Will half-joked.

"Be lucky if that is all she breaks," Epps added.

"Did it work?" Ultra Magnus asked quietly, comparing the Allspark's smaller size with his memories.

"Looks like it," Jazz noted. Of all the bots, he recovered the quickest. One massive cube sat in the center, the air above still. "Any other bot feel all that?" Nervous chuckles and outright laughter answered.

"We were all part of it yet not bound to it," Wheeljack stated.

"Our past and the hope of our future," Magnus stated, ignoring Arcee shaking her head in disbelief.

"A future hope?" Elita repeated.

"It will be hundreds of orns before the Allspark is stable enough to try," Wheeljack reported.

"You don't really plan to wait until then?" Chromia asked, focusing everything on Ironhide.

"Activating the Allspark would only do it harm." Optimus said, his tone somber.

All the femmes burst out laughing. The mechs looked blank at what they found amusing.

"He has a glitch you know," Silverblade's soft voice stated as though giving a sad verdict.

"A severe glitch." Chromia said, agreeing with the other femme.

"And very common" Firestar added.

"Which one?" Elita asked innocently, her lip plates trembling to hold the amusement in.

"The one that made him mech instead of femme!" Chromia yelled. The femmes all roared, barely able to stand. Mikeala laughed as Wheelie rolled away from her stumbling feet. Firestar and Arcee fell to their knees, systems overheating. Chromia smirked while Elita was almost doubled over. The mechs groaned, covering their faces with their hands or looking disgusted. Optimus pinched his nose plates with his armored hand as Ironhide growled, crossing his arms.

"Laugh it up. You mind enlightening the rest of us?" Wheeljack grumbled.

"The Allspark is not all there is," Elita stated, straightening and wiping at moist optics.

"My spark is out of sync. I need realigning," Chromia purred, grabbing the top of Ironhide's front chest ridge and pulling him close. "And that means you rust bucket." He vented rapidly, his spark suddenly beating on his chest plates. He tried replying but the sound was more a moan than a word.

Lennox blushed, looking anywhere but at the alien couple. Epps and Sam suddenly found the evening sky very interesting.

Optimus started to reprimand them when a pair of armored arms wrapped around his waist from behind. Their owner used them to slide under his arm and around to the front, keeping the contact tight.

::Now Elita, please don't:: Optimus began, feeling embarrassed with the others watching.

::I will please you:: Elita answered seductively then snickered as her mech nearly overheated. She quietly laughed then let go. "The human Primes need to rest. Let the Aerialbots guard them. We can survey the area, and don't act youngling on me," she teased as his battle mask snapped into place, hiding his expression.

Chromia was dragging Ironhide to the side, the others moving out of their way. Silverblade volunteered to stay with Bumblebee and guard Sam and Mikeala as the other femmes teamed up with mechs.

Moonracer grabbed both of Ratchet's arms. "Not one wrench, unless repairing our fun. Got it?" The medic pulled free then grumbled, following her while muttering vague threats about femmes and programming. Elita made a processor note to get the details from Moonracer when a low growl sounded from behind her. A startled look over her shoulder plate confirmed he was watching.

Optimus' optics narrowed and he growled again. "Run 'Lita." Whatever reply she thought to give failed from her processor as the predator of his personality showed. He knew what he wanted and nothing was going to stop him from getting it. Her lip plates curled into a true smile. In a second, she transformed and raced across the field in her convertible alt mode, a blue and red Peterbilt semi close behind, its engine roaring.

They were the second to last team back. Ironhide and Chromia were last, just before sunrise, neither saying a word. Lennox blushed for days and was grateful Annabelle was a teenager before asking about where all her friends disappeared to that night. The cube was airlifted to the dam and hidden until it could be secured on Cybertron. And life continued…


	51. Chapter 51 Finding who you are

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and encouragements. No, the series did not end with 50 chapters. Time for more than just Prowl and the Autobots to make the rules. I had intended a spin off on human rules but never could create enough and the idea fell off the list of too many fics to complete. Still about twenty behind on getting them off paper and onto fan fic.

WL RULE #2 / 166 Is darker but a real reminder of alien communications and the harshness of war. It's not alien robots partying on earth, fight for two minutes do repairs and every bot is fine then party some more. WL Rule stands for William Lennox human rule. Orion Pax in the G1 cartoon was attacked by Megatron and nearly died, being remade by Alpha Trion into Optimus Prime. I pulled on that history.

Other genres have him not knowing his true parents and becoming leader over all Cybertron forces and / or co-leader with Megatron. No explanation how he saw Megatron blast him then leads the planet with him. Here, Megatron was not the one who shot Orion. Onward to our past influencing who we are but not controlling us.

TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR

_WL Rule # 1 – Do not be afraid to ask the Transformers for reasonable help on or off the battlefield. _

Prowl regarded the uniformed officer sitting on the desk top with sympathy though he kept the emotion from his face plates. "I understand your concerns Major but our rules number over 200. They are specific to our existence and enforceable on our race. Perhaps you should start your own list?"

"More paperwork?" Will exclaimed. "I have enough now I need an assistant! The military runs on forms and reports. The red tape involved is unbelievable and the security clearance stamps alone fill up a desk drawer."

Prowl noted the stiff muscles, the dark lines under his eyes and his processors softened their rigid adherence to protocol. "I can add a subsection for NEST specific interactions. Sam risked his very existence for Optimus and personnel have been offlined fighting against the Decepticons. We can honor your assistance and trust in us."

"Really? Wicked. I'll e-mail them and you add them? And no teasing about my spelling." The human stated, leaning back in the leather highback chair.

"Skids and Mudflap hold the record for…creative spelling. Ironhide refuses reports other than one sentence and Ratchet is uncooperative on details. I will overlook any typographical differences."

"Great. I don't suppose you could handle Sarah?" he scrubbed at his chin stubble with a weary hand.

"Spark mates are not my specialty," the black and white mech answered calmly, his delight betrayed by a twitching mouth plate. "I understand she allowed you access back into your quarters yesterday."

"Woman knew Annabelle was a Prime and Ironhide was protecting her. Did she tell me, no!" He grumped. "I tell her and she nods then we agree to be completely honest with each other on everything. Her life was quiet compared to mine. I really thought she knew about my life before her."

"She did agree to live on base short term over the summer to allow Annabelle to adjust," Prowl pointed out positively.

Hound had been assigned inner base patrol duty that night and thought the couple was being attacked. A quick scan registered them arguing with each other. Fearing human emotions spiraling out of control, he had listened in, ready to intervene or call for assistance, the entire incident automatically recording it into his scout systems. Confused, Hound had relayed it to both Ratchet and Optimus seeking orders. Annabelle was a Prime and with Ironhide overnight and therefore safe but her parental units were behaving irrationally as spark mates. What was he to do? By morning, every bot knew why Major Lennox slept in the spare room in med bay.

"True. Maybe by the time she starts high school I'll be allowed off the living room couch. Never keep a secret from a woman. Let alone a lot of them. Add meetings to secure the dam for the Allspark, recruit training, reports and more reports," he murmured, relaxing out in the chair.

Prowl noted the decreasing brain activity and returned to updating his datapad. Minutes later, he covered the man with a human size blanket, white armored metal fingers sliding a pillow behind his head and a padded stool under his feet. The mech closed his desk drawer holding the pile of human furniture and belongings without a word. Fifteen official reports were pulled from the mainframe, updated, noted, and organized before being sent with the Major's electronically encrypted signature in under a minute. Not one had a single misspelling.

_WL RULE # 2 - NEST team members should not lie or encourage 'white lies' in their fellow soldiers and never to the Transformers. _

_166. Do not misjudge human intentions based on their habitual untruthfulness. Lying is expected and encouraged in their race._

Major Will Lennox watched the recruits file in the auditorium, randomly selecting chairs in the first rows. Epps and Jorgenson completed their game of rock, paper, and sabot rounds, Epps losing. Jorgensen flashed her trademark smile, green eyes twinkling before sitting in the leather recliner on the side stage. She made a show of flipping her long red hair back into a ponytail and sipping her soda. Will stood before the podium watching Epps passing out class notes and filling out the attendance sheet.

"Today's lecture cannot be stressed enough. Transformers are not human. They may act human but come from a different planet with different rules and customs. For instance, they talk for two reasons, courtesy and honesty. Courtesy to us as humans and in their culture, a sign of honest trust."

"How is talking a sign of trust? Silence means I don't like you?" The blonde haired tech specialist in the second row asked. "My last two girlfriends do that." Laughter followed his comment.

"Their main communications are over internal comms and data bursts at speeds we can barely measure," Lennox continued, keying the digital screen behind him. "They can be directed to one mech, a team or every bot within signal range. Encoded symbol glyphs start and end every message, indicating who should be receiving it. Accidentally intercepted messages are ignored and locked out based on those first glyphs." Symbols flashed up, each one matching a known Transformer image.

"Wish we had those rules. Used to ride the bus to work. Would overhear whose kid was in trouble, who was breaking up and personal stuff I would not discuss in private with my wife!" The communications sergeant added, rifling a hand through his spiky black hair.

"Let alone top of your voice in a crowd of people you face five times a week, week in week out? I hear you." The man seated behind him said. Will rapped twice on the wood podium to focus them.

"Once the war started, the Transformers suddenly had to monitor communications on open and secure bandwidths. The Decepticons maim, kill and destroy because they can. Listening in and being rude are the least of their protocol concerns. Even a signal identified two enemies nearby, sender and receiver. For every level of tech encoded protection created, it was cracked." He keyed the next images, not looking at the broken images of protoforms supplied from the recorded memories of the Autobots.

"Torture is an ever present concern for them. Bluestreak's mind was forced and stripped against his will to learn the information he carried. He survived but allows no physical contact from the other bots via interfacing or direct linking. He is also their best sniper and long range assassin." Images played on his accuracy that no human could match.

"He was lucky. Thousands have died under Megatron and his minions. They regard humans less than insects." Will's eyes hardened with suppressed rage as he remembered Sam lightly mentioning the doctor drone and his probe attempts into the boy's mind. The recruits remained silent, feeling the deadliness of the man facing them.

Epps coughed, stepping in momentarily. "Same way we give each other personal space, Transformers do. No reading over the shoulder, stealing your mail and not passing on phone messages. Moreover, humans are included in the courtesies. You can be sitting on their leg, typing on a laptop and they will not hack, monitor or read what you are doing." He stepped back, letting Will take back over.

"As a friend or fellow soldier that would be inexcusable to any mech over sparkling age. Now, some of us have told them it's okay. Sam has specifically given his guardian Bumblebee full and complete access to his life. Phone, computer, iPod up to anything electrical on or off his person."

"And?" An unrecognizable voice from the back row asked.

"Bumblebee finds it boring and a waste of time. Think about it," Lennox stressed. "Thousands of years old, advanced processing and jokes about rising gas prices or video of a fat guy dancing to music in his bedroom is what?" Chuckles met his statement. Expressions changed as the information was absorbed.

"What about listening in on Transformers?" The communications sergeant asked.

"We don't know their entire language and it is protected under the treaty. It is mathematically based and differs from ours in they state only what they mean. One word with one meaning displayed as a symbol and known between both sender and receiver. Our puns and word play often confuses them."

"Lying?" A quiet supply officer assistant asked from near the back row.

"You mean deception as in Deception enemy behavior? Why would you lie? To deceive, hide or cause trouble. Skip the 'does this dress make me look fat' justification. We lie and know it is wrong. Why would you do that to a friend or family? They trust you and you should them. Their culture tells it like it is. I agree ours should learn to." He closed the projector down and smirked.

"And on that note, later today you will be tired and hot from running the obstacle course with live weapons practice courtesy of Ironhide, be yelled at by Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, and ask yourself why you volunteered for NEST. And steak is off the menu tonight. Delivery truck was late so it's liver and onions or hot dogs again for recruits and general enlisted. Officers will be with the Transformers to celebrate a private prime occasion with all a fabulous buffet. Enjoy your afternoon and evening, dismissed."

_WL Rule # 5 - Do not underestimate the size, speed and power of Cybertronian weapons. _

_171. Do not encourage the belief in mythical weapons including but not limited to light sabers, ray guns, proton blasters, skynet hover killers, predator metal shuriken, or similar devices. We are from Cybertron not Hollywood science fiction action stars. _

"Ironhide, are you here?" Sam asked softly, peering around the human sized door onto the Transformer target range. "Optimus? Bumblebee? Any bot?" He looked, confirming the lack of pulse signals in his head. "Knew this was empty. Strange, the door entry still has them logged in." He walked forward, getting a good look at the holo course. Starscream's image roared overhead, disappearing into the far wall as drones zipped back and forth at ground level. Megatron sprung up and he flinched backwards, stumbling and falling over with a thud. "What the?" he started, legs entangled with a silver weapon.

Sam curled around, examining the gun. "It's energy based and smaller than the one Bumblebee carries." He kneeled, bracing the weight on his shoulder, aligning it and waiting. Megatron sprung up, Sam using both hands to depress the activation button. The target, the wall and half the green Lexus convertible parked behind the wall disappeared under the blue light. "Oops. Not set to holo levels." He winced, holding the weapon in both hands. Starscream's image flew left to right, dropping imaginary bombs as the scene shifted to a forest, hiding the hole in the wall.

"Time to go," the youth muttered, before lifting the weapon and carrying it out. Two familiar pulses caught his attention. A turn to the right and around the supply office building and Bumblebee and Optimus were sitting there, intently working inside of Optimus' right arm.

"Hi guys," he called, shifting the weapon.

"Thank you boy. I was looking for my wrist stunner," Optimus said, reaching out his free arm. "Circuit crossed and I had to remove it to fix the link below. Would not have wanted any soldiers to find it. Who knows the damage that would have caused," he tilted his head, the silver communication relays spinning on the sides of his helm. "Comm from Arcee. The new protocol liaison is demanding to see me by his car. I must go."

"Hey, no problem," Sam exclaimed and waited until Optimus was nearly to the target range. "Bee, get me out of here! Now, just go anywhere off base, I'll explain later. Please?" he begged as the yellow scout hesitated. "Staying would be hazardous to my health!" His skin tingled with a life detection scan but Bumblebee transformed, opening the passenger door. Optimus' far vision noted their departure but his battle mask hid the grin on his lip plates.

"I understand you're being upset about half a vehicle," he began explaining to the man, noting Arcee's hologram hid the hole in the wall, its energy imprint all too clear to his sensors. "It is hard to predict what a trigger to these events is."

_**Story Arc – "Finding who you are" **__(part one)_

In med bay, with the doors sealed, Ratchet waited patiently, noting the increased energon use and rapid system venting on the silver femme before him on the med berth. Chromia stood on the other side, a physical comfort and safety check to her.

Silverblade slowly opened her chest plates as instructed. The medic reached forward explaining as he went. "Spark spires can take terrific impacts but need routine checking. I understand your team lost their medic a vorn ago?"

"Longer than that. We did our own repairs. I'm selfish," she half quirked her lip plates. "I like my chassis in working order with all parts attached as is."

"Be nice if you could teach the mechs that. They seem to think I have an inexhaustible supply of replacement parts and time. Your spires are ancient but your core processors and memory packs are modern. Battlefield injury?"

"Not exactly," she murmured."When the war first began, I tried enlisting. Mechner turned me down."

"Prime Mechner?" Chromia snapped, both metal hands curling into fists. "Tall thin green bot with a bright red helm?" Silverblade nodded and she cursed. "#$%^ fragger told me the same. He believed large warriors were the only way to win the war quickly and decisively. Hound was also rejected by him. His skills as a scout were not in line with his processing. I spent a vorn doing stock work until he got offlined and Prime Nightstar led. He had no problem with any fighter as long as you could hold a weapon and were online."

"I never knew that," Ratchet murmured, intent on his scans. The parts were mismatched and oddly shaped. Mutliple energy signatures marked several of them.

"You were still in the Senate and your high family. Not much reason for you to know. Once you changed and became a medic, taking the name Ratchet and joining Optimus you became in the know," Chromia explained but lightly. She hated the high families but respected Ratchet's sacrifice over the vorns.

"I served on a moon base, communications during that time. My smaller frame and weaker spark…" Silverblade began.

"Makes no difference with training and discipline. I'm smaller than most mechs here and have more Decepticon kills than our current Prime," Chromia corrected harshly, gestruing to a number glyph on her dark blue arm then softened. "Femme or spark sizes are limits only if you make them. First battle taught me that. Meet me later and I will transfer programming tactics. Nasty tactics that are very effective in close combat situations."

"This is a medical check-up, not a discussion in politics and combat policies. I need to check your main core linkage." He waited, as her left silver chest plate slid over and up against her shoulder. The core was as ancient as her spark spires and he accessed translation programs to read the engraved glyphs. "Her name, her encoding lineage, and clan sign. That clan sign," Ratchet's optics went wide and stopped spinning.

::Ratchet? Oh, Ratchet?:: Chromia sent as he continued to stare, before moving closer to the yellow green medic. ::You're scaring her. Hey Hatchet!:: his nickname failed to get a response.

"I am going to love this," she winked an optic at Silverblade.

CLANG!

"Ow," Ratchet snapped both metal hands to his side head plate, feeling a wrench sized dent.

"You froze. Fastest way to bring your reasoning back," she smirked, her blue hand spinning the silver wrench.

"Is something wrong?" Silverblade asked, chest plates closing.

"No, have a situation elsewhere to deal with. I must go." He abruptly turned, practically jogging out of the doors, barely waiting for the locks to open.

"Should we follow?" Silverblade asked, relieved he had not asked for a direct link into her systems.

"Nope. If they need us, you'll know. Or listen for alarms and screaming. That works too around here."

Breems later, Silverblade had retired to her personal quarters when the request for her to join Optimus on the tarmac for a private conference flashed up. Processors running at full, she transformed, rolling out to meet him, placing all weapons and battle systems into lockdown. 'Relax Silver. You're not in trouble or he would have said the brig. Or set a bot to arrest you. He only wants to talk. Welcome you, a few words exchanged as commander to warrior then sneak off.'

He waited for her in his bi-pedal mode, impressive in size and blue armoring. His red flame design moved as he shifted, gesturing for her to come closer and transform. "Welcome Silverblade. I have not had the opportunity to meet with you personally yet." He started, reading her tension in the way her chassis moved stiffly and the distance she kept from him.

"You are a Prime and busy. I understand," she returned his encouraging smile. He vented softly, deciding to get to the point.

"I understand your core bears this clan sign." His hand displayed a holographic image of it.

"Yes. You know it?" she asked then mentally tripped a processor for asking the obvious.

"The femme who raised me was from that clan," he said.

"Your femme creator?" she curved her lip plates into a wide smile. "The clan was small but influential in Cybertron's history, before the war."

"No, not my femme creator. I never knew my true lineage. My…spark brother and I were found in the wreckage of the Miyratron colony. Fifteen bots out of eight thousand survived that disaster," he bowed his head, optics closed in remembrance. His helm gears spun once as his optics opened, their intense blue pulsing focusing on a distant point. "Neither of us had our lineage or clan signs engraved, only our names. I now know we were born into the lineage of the Primes. Our identities hidden from the Fallen."

"The Fallen? He is a myth told to younglings as a warning. No proof of his existence has been seen for thousands of vorns."

"He was the first Decepticon, betrayer of the Primes and their families. Miyratron was his largest open attack." Optimus stated, a trace of disgust in the harshness of his vocal tones.

"But not his last," she vented softly, her optics dimming a little with the guess.

"No, a shuttle explosion here, a random accident there. Primes and their families offlined mixed with countless other sparks. Primes once numbered in the dozens, spread over Cybertron and its colonies. The Fallen was cunning and treacherous, never allowing the main targets to be recognized. One fell in battle against colony rebels, another appeared to offline himself after his family was destroyed, his matrix shattered."

"But your parental units must have realized they were not accidents." She met him optic to optic, her spark feeling for that femme knowing her family was in danger and being powerless to stop the evil hunting them.

"That is my belief. Megatron and I were hid in a secure vault area instead of a normal recharge area. Alpha Trion adopted us both, as he was unable to spark younglings of his own. His mating had been arranged by both his and her clans for power and prestige. She never loved him nor truly accepted him, never spark mating. He arranged for her comfort and a residence and seemed affectionate in public. Two mech sparklings added to that image. Many never knew he was not our spark creator."

"You knew the truth?"

"They had separate recharge areas. He spent the days in the halls of the Senate and among our leaders, the nights in his lab or working with other scientists and engineers,"Optimus acknowledged. "She raised me to have compassion and understanding, encouraging me to pursue my skills in design and architecture. We visited the Allspark and she taught me the rules of conduct of Primus before every recharge cycle as a youngling."

"Your spark brother?"

"Alpha Trion encouraged Megatron, taking him to the Senate to hone his skills in maneuverings of power and control. He believed the Fallen was dying and powerless, a shadow figure behind the Decepticons but not a threat worth considering. Two Primes were assigned by the Senate to handle them."

"Never recognized the danger did they?" Silverblade asked, realizing she was hearing his personal history and the pain it still caused.

"Evil hides its true face. Megatron and I pursued different paths until I was nearly offlined by a Decepticon attack. Alpha Trion realized too late his mistake in ignoring their threat. He rebuilt me with advanced military upgrades and ensured I was given one of the Matrix of leaderships. In time, I took control of Cybertron forces, calling the divisions together as sides were chosen. Megatron continued his power gathering, becoming co-leader. All the while recruiting the very mechs to destroy what we were building." Optimus stopped and glanced at her, waiting.

"I know," she softly vocalized. "He came to our moon base to recruit for the Decepticons."

"And you joined his forces," Optimus said.

"Yes."

_To be continued…_


	52. Chapter 52 Understanding the past pt 1

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. As always, this fic is NO SLASH! Rated T for fighting violence and Cybertron swearing. Another mistake caught. The movie Prime has silver not colored metal on his fingers. I used his old colors, my bad. Silver metal from here on out. I have been researching Cybertron history and several major characters but there are a lot to learn and limited time to write and post.

Yes, Silverblade tried to join the Autobots and got rejected, joining the Decepticons. Plot twists coming even better than that. Not easily guessable either. *laughs and rubs hands together* Another reason you keep reading right? Onward to choosing wrong and someone else saving you at the time.

TRTRTRTRTRTTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR

_WL Rule #3 While NEST and the Autobots are part of our lives, do not let it become your only life. Marriage and children with a separate home are possible, even in this war. Hard to do but worth every effort. _

_177. Do not become the focus of the human need to obtain spiritual or mental enrichment. We are ancient and more knowledgeable but not the answer they need to solve their own problems. Refer them to medical staff, chaplains or fellow NEST team members. _

The recruits watched officers Epps and Jorgensen moving their fists into familiar shapes before Epps groaned. He would lead them through the target range while Jorgensen kept the scores from behind the baffle.

"Isn't rock, paper, and scissors kind of childish to decide command structure?" The dark haired recruit asked, shouldering his energon net holo look alike.

"It's rock, scissors and sabot rounds around here. And no, not when we are commanding new recruits." Epps answered, grabbing extra holo energy clips for his pistol.

"What about the Autobots? Gears, energon and transforms?" A recruit in the back wisecracked.

"They do not have our command structure hang-ups. Each has distinctive ranks and titles and the few similar, like the twins have their own ways." Jorgensen explained, her voice easily carrying.

"Sideswipe and Sunstreaker use guidelines like Sideswipe is deadlier and Sunstreaker prefers not scratching his paint or they are in the brig and unavailable. The minor twins fight it out, usually a larger mech slamming them together and both going on the same mission," Epps continued, visually checking the recruits gear and weaponry. His exactness to detail made him a good second and a better safety checker. Any recruit getting hurt was through their own fault and he would be the first to rescue them.

"No real jockeying for positions or titles?" The dark haired man questioned again as if not believing. Ironhide tapped his foot, shaking the floor, causing everyone to snap to attention and realize he, Ratchet and Major Lennox had been listening and watching silently from the side.

"Understand, almost 95% of their population is gone!" Will pointed up at them. "They have fought back plate to back plate for thousands of years against an enemy that wiped out entire generations of their kind. They fight when they want to. Prime has the final and only say should a real problem occur."

"And keeping Prime out of battle is the problem," Ironhide reminded.

"Why not hide the battle location or enough of you tackle and tie him up somewhere?"The blonde hair tech specialist asked. "How hard could that be?"

Both bots burst out laughing. Ironhide leaned in close, his lip plates twitching. "We tried that once. Did it occur to you there is a reason why my arm cannons are distinctly different?"

"Figured it was type of energy charge they fire?" he answered, cringing from the massive face over him.

"Not exactly," Ratchet smirked. "Prime forcefully removed the cannon the moment he freed himself, and did welding rearrangements before returning it back." He pointed over at Ironhide as the black warrior mech shuddered in memory. "As a weapon it was unusable and we had to reconfigure Ironhide's entire system when he came back online."

"What did he do with the cannon?" Will asked, glancing up at Ironhide.

"You don't want to know other than Chromia persuaded the Prime to let me remove it and repair Ironhide for her sake," Ratchet answered.

"The original weapons designer was offline and we copied the power system best we could but lacked metals for the outer rings. The unhooking broke several. That is why they are different." Ironhide concluded, his tone firm. "The details do not matter."

::It was an original idea switching your parts like that:: Ratchet

::Shut it medic:: Ironhide barked.

::Prime did apologize and destroy all his recorded evidence:: Ratchet

:: True. Wait a frag. You said his recorded, what about yours? Ratchet? Answer me:: Ironhide growled. The medic kept his optics to the side then abruptly transformed, racing away. An astro second later, a black GMC top kick closed on its bumper. "I'll switch your parts!" He yelled.

_WL Rule #4 Don't bug the Transformers with stupid, silly human size ideas. One of them #%Q% off is not worth satisfying a question of curiosity. Their weapons are bigger, their reach longer and you cannot run faster than a targeting lock. _

_178. Do not underestimate the human imagination. It can create beauty beyond description or perversion beyond despair. In that, they think like both Autobots and Decepticons. It is our duty to keep them focused on our way of existence while remembering they are free to believe what they want. _

In the Autobot private quarters, three mechs and one human approached the first room. "We have nothing to hide," Optimus stated, opening the door by passing his metal hand over the entry plate. The computer recognized him as Prime and released the lock.

Mr. Franks, the government assigned safety inspector, continued typing his notes. "I will be the judge of that. I have traveled to nearly every major military base on the planet, seen it all. That's why I was sent here. Most qualified," he said.

"We seek peace and a place to rest only," Optimus added. His optics noted the man's facial expression of neutrality slip before stiffening back. The human glanced in but did not enter.

An Autobot high recharge berth, wall cabinet and storage locker sat within. The green and black camouflage indicated Hound's personal taste. A single datapad on the desk randomly flipped through pictures of earth, oceans to forests to country meadows. The next two rooms were inspected quietly, glanced at but not entered. Ratchet and Ironhide moved ahead, opening the doors one by one. Optimus noted the increase in the human's system as the man's thoughts took a different path.

"Mikeala is family, is she not? Her quarters are in the human area," the inspector asked, half-glancing through the open doorway before typing notes on his laptop.

"Yes, family via Bumblebee, and under our full protection," Ironhide added further up in the hallway, his tone menacing. The human had irritated him the first moment he had arrived. Prowl and he shared the job of ensuring on base security and Ratchet attended to their physical needs. The idea of a human inspecting anything of theirs was a waste of time.

"Oh, the bot partnered with a woman?" He looked surprised. "Mikeala is half-Cybertron and part human then. Bet that was a romance for the stars. Medic have any trouble delivering or is he the reason she exists?" He stopped, holding his laptop.

"It's not possible no matter how many of you humans ask about it!" Ratchet snapped, his yellow green form leaning into the hallway. "Our technology is not for mixing sparks and flesh like tinker toys. Life has value. Your race and our race are worlds apart. Battle repairs are my concern, not Frankenstein reproductive science."

He stomped back into the nearest recharge room muttering, "that fool is badly misinformed," angrily kicking two Autobot size soccer balls in Skids room. One ball bounced over the giant screen TV, gaming system and leaning DVD pile while the other slid into a pile of discarded spare transform armor. His alien hearing discerned the hallway conversation too clearly.

"Mikeala was adopted via oaths into our family and is full human. Love exceeds bounds science cannot cross," Optimus regal baritone stated.

The man reviewed his notes before continuing, "Whatever. The boy, Sam Wigglewit."

"Witwicky!" Three mech voices corrected in unison.

"Ahh, medical records on him do not exist and you certainly keep him close. Played with dangerous alien technology from what I read. Is he a Cybertronian pretender? Really a robot?" he asked.

::This fool is irritating. Shall I terminate?:: Ironhide

::Yes yes yes!:: Ratchet

::We do not harm humans. Even idiot ones. They usually offline themselves and save us the effort :: Optimus sent. ::Continue to check the rooms ahead, making sure they are clear of potential hazards::

Both mechs obeyed, disappearing through different doors. He faced the human, keeping a neutral expression and body stance. "I owe Sam my life twice over. He is human and hunted by our Decepticon foes. They would take great pleasure to torture and kill him. We have no desire for your race other than friendship and protecting your world."

Mr. Franks shook his head side to side. "Galloway warned me you were stick in the mud types at lunch last week. All formal and no personality. Not even curious about interspecies relationships?" He elbowed the side of Optimus foot plate, wincing as his arm tingled from impacting the unmovable metal armor.

"I'm curious how you earned your position believing what you do including a vivid imagination," Optimus countered, moving away, his ire starting to shift his battle systems into a ready mode.

::Perverted imagination you mean:: Ironhide

::I am curious. Leave him in my med bay and I will….:: Ratchet transformed his left arm into a medical blade saw.

::One human is not indicative of the species. He is friends with Galloway. Enough said:: Optimus reminded then noticed the man focusing on him.

"Hmm, how about you? Autobot ladies keep you happy? Bet being Prime has its Prime rewards?" the human snickered, missing the way the red and blue mech in front of him stiffened, rifle subspacing onto his back.

"Prime means caring for all under my command equally. Mech or femme," he corrected, leaning down close to intimidate him. "To what do you refer?"

"Three in one with the motorcycles or an all femmes within reach policy? I know, they are under your protection due to the Decepticons having standing orders to kill them. But seriously, hot leader and all those ladies? Pink motorcycle seems tame but the blue one, she would match your colors when draped across you, all flushed and wore out."

::My Chromia? That fleshling is offlined!:: Ironhide roared, spinning his cannons and releasing the first safety locks. Ratchet lurched forward across the narrow space, pinning the raised arm down and using his equal weight to slam the warrior mech into the open room. Their impact against the far wall triggered the door locks. Thuds and scuffle sounds echoed through the wall as they fought.

The man snickered, misreading Optimus expression of concern. "Sounds like a couple to me. Let us give them their privacy. I can conclude the tour later," he swaggered back towards the door. Optimus reached for the human before calming as his memory supplied a more appropriate answer.

::Sideswipe, Sunstreaker are your haunted house holograms ready for testing?:: Optimus

::You said to shelf the program. Too terrifying for humans with all the Decepticons and devastated earth scenarios:: Sunstreaker

::Reconsidered the work you both put into it. Mr. Franks here needs to see everything. Escort him around base and let him test the program, if he chooses. It must be voluntary and warn him they are only holograms:: Optimus

::Not to sound disrespectful, but is that really you Prime? Where did you first meet me?:: Sideswipe

::Prowl's office on Cybertron. He was telling me why the two of you were being transferred onto his team directly from the gladiator pit:: Optimus answered. ::Your left optic was golden from a partial repair and you were missing two of your right hand pieces from the last fight::

::Yes sir! Holographic tester accepted. We will dutifully record all responses as well as his informed consent to test:: Sideswipe gleefully answered.

At the main door, Mr. Franks talked to one of the mechs. Optimus watched Hound transform into his military jeep alt mode and offer the human a ride back to the hangar. "You two can come out now. He's gone." Silence met his statement. Sensors scanned through the wall and detected two prone forms on the floor, both in temporary stasis lock. Energy signatures identified what had happened. "Ratchet tranked him and Ironhide used his thermal stunner before succumbing. I knew there would be orns like this but Primus, do they have to keep repeating? Aren't twenty-eight idiot humans in five years enough? How many more can come through here for me to deal with? My mechs are enough. Add femmes, Sam and Mikeala, my evil brother and I should be the one tranked."

_**Story Arc – "Finding who you are" **_(part two)

Silverblade waited for the Autobot Prime to denounce her, calling for his mechs and chains or to blast her directly. 'I locked my systems down before arriving,' she processed despairingly then glanced over the legendary leader and knew. 'Even fully armed and ready sneaking up on him in recharge, he would take me offline.'

Optimus focused on her two prominently engraved Autobot symbols before quirking the edge of his mouth plate. "You've sworn the Autobot oath and wear that commitment openly. Do you consider yourself an Autobot?"

"Yes," her soft vocal tone carried her regret and fear clearly. He resisted the urge to wrap a comforting arm around her, knowing it would terrify Silverblade the more.

"As Prime, I honor that oath. You are not the first to renounce their ways and I hope not the last. As Optimus," he put silver metal armored fingers gently under her chin, lifting her face towards his. "I honor the memory of the femme who raised me. Do not tell the others of your past. They would not understand."

"I know. I listened to Cliffjumper and his hatred of possible Decepticon spies. Your Ironhide terrifies me more," she admitted.

Optimus chuckled, moving back. "He terrifies every bot except our medic Ratchet. And he has requested I relay the order for you to be in his med bay tomorrow morning."

"Med-bay? Why?" Her vocal tone broke on the last word. His optics softened as she nearly crumpled under his gaze.

"The addition and removal of weapons by the Decepticons left unmanaged servo damage and programming. Your team lacked a medic but saw open combat. That is why you are careful in battle. Not risking injury least your secrets be exposed," He stated.

"When, what and how do you know?" she sputtered, forgetting her fear.

He chuckled, "It's my job to know as the humans say." He straightened to full height, pulling his arms back and arching his spine slightly, knowing the effect it had on smaller mechs and femmes. He took two long strides before looking over his shoulder, "Be at peace little one, the stars shine long for us." Chuckling as her jaw gears dropped at the traditional clan leave taking. He chuckled more, having remembered his femme telling him that many times. 'As big as I was armored or aged, she still told me that.'

The next morning, Silverblade faced the med bay doors, tired and restless. Recharge had been hard to trigger, her processors replaying the conversation with the Prime and his unexpected reaction to her past. The doors slid open and she froze.

"The room is empty and no bot is scheduled until this evening. Your repairs will take time but not that long. Unless you plan on staying in the hallway," Ratchet's vocals drifted out to her. He was leaning on the farthest berth, arms folded and not a medical tool or device in sight. "Choose any berth and relax. I'm a medic and you are in need of physical repairs. What bothers you the most?"

She stepped forward slowly, heading for the side berth while contemplating his question. "I had system adjustments not suitable for my spark or frame then removed then added again. I've compensated but the routines require continual adjustments. Several tactical adjustors were damaged and never replaced. I rarely need a medic's care. I do my own repairs." She laid out, barely trembling as he approached. He pointed at her arm, waiting until she released the armor up. The parts inside were slanted opposite the metal and a tangled mess.

Ratchet frowned, drawing his optics together. "Fraggers put you in stasis lock, opened your plates then added weapons and uploaded patches but no safeties. Changed optics scanners to targeting systems then spot welded, closed the plates and left. Never leaving instructions or any guidance other than stay hidden and be ready." Her wide optics and silent nod was confirmation.

"Early in the war they did that. Where was the purple symbol hidden, left shoulder?" He guessed, repairing shoddy connections.

"Right shoulder on a spring plate. It faced inward until needed." One hand tapped the solid metal and engraved Autobot symbol in its place.

"Early in the war neutrals were given that choice." Ratchet grunted. His fingers transformed into multi prong tools, moving and separating delicate wiring. "Then the battles spread out past Trypticon. You were lucky. Later when the Decepticons began running out of chassis to grab, err volunteers they created the process to strip a mech down to the cores, removing personality and intelligence. The process was long and the shell was hard to control. The transmutation virus was used after that."

"I know. Starscream was proud of his additions to it," she vented softly.

"Starscream? The second in line snapping at Megatron's heels sneaky coward seeker?" Ratchet focused on her readings, discerning the truth in her physical responses. "How?" His eye plates arched high.

Her memory processors replayed the scene from thousands of years before. Her communications console on the main moon base, her co-workers discussing the newest Decepticon mech.

"That Nightmark is arrogant," Darkstrength grunted, optics intent on time displays. "Tried impressing me with his size like I was empty tanked." Small but strong, she challenged even the elite guard who dared tread on her flight pattern schedule. Rumors had her pegged as third generation from Primus himself though she vehemently denied being that aged. The moon base was her home as systems slowed but her processors could outdo any bot there. She continued her rant, "Made it sound like he had a high position, was practically winning the conflict by his cunning technology."

Silverblade laughed at the same time as her friend Lightwind. "That good huh?"

Darkstrength rolled her golden optics. "Only braggart worse is Thundercracker. All seekers fly high but that's to keep their ego's from dragging on the surface below." Her console pinged, announcing another shuttle arriving. "Late as always and seekers onboard. Be back in a few breems if those slag heads have their orders inline," she griped before heading for the lift, flipping her blue colored goggles down.

"You know the best way to handle Nightmark?" Lightwind asked. Her white coloring was unusual as was her superior size. More than once Silverblade had wondered why she had not enlisted and chose instead moon base repairs. The small spaces required often conflicted with her solid size. Not that mechs complained. She chose who she wanted when she wanted, keeping none of them.

"With a ten parsec shock bar?" Silverblade teased. The view of Cybertron spread out before her. Rolling her optics up, only the stars filled her vision. Straight out and shuttles flying on and off the ports created comet like flares, their fuel radiating colors in the thin atmosphere. Leaning closer to the super thick clear bonding, Cybertron below sparkled with all its power and lights. The first time seeing that view and she knew the little room was worth every breem spent there.

"Besides that," Lightwind laughed, rotating her upper chassis to face her. "Resist him. Don't let him trip your processors. He is all bragging and no interfacing."

"Lightwind!" She gasped. "You are…."

"Your guardian and friend. You need to get planet side more. World full of mechs and you hide up here with us ancient femmes." Her console pinged nine times sharply. "Link up relay is offline. Reset is two floors up, hold the deck until I return," she waved cheerfully before taking the lift. Silverblade linked all the screens together, watching the efficient base AI system run what she couldn't. The lift dinged, heavy treads echoing behind her.

"Is this main control? I have important business for Lord Megatron," A mech's vocal tone smugly interrupted her work. She turned slowly, guessing it had to be the infamous Nightmark.

A large silver seeker with an impressive wing span posed himself in her optic range. The smugness to his lip plates clashed with the red flicker of his optics. He radiated power yet his tone reminded her of a youngling begging for more energon treats based on deserving it without having earned it. Raising an eye ridge, she deliberately rotated her Decepticon symbol forward. His optics narrowed as he noticed it.

"I am Silverblade and this is my control center. I serve Megatron but who are you to have his important business?" She challenged arrogantly, systems fluttering with delight. This smug mech was going to tangle verbal swords with her and be taken down a level or two for it.

"His second in command. He orders half the relays be released to his communications officer Soundwave two shifts from now to coordinate a technological program." He stated as if she should have known and been grateful to help.

"Hmm," she pretended to consider the request. "Half the relays only? What a request. And all our programs are technological on this moon base seeker. How do I know you are his second and not an Autobot spy asking for what is not yours?" her shoulder cannon appeared out of subspace as did her wrist blasters, all aiming at him.

_To be continued.. _


	53. Chapter 53 Understanding the past pt 2

Author's Notes: Sorry for the long time away, life has been crazy. Then challenging finding time on the computer with two roommates who are gamers. Need Ironhide around to help organize the schedule maybe? Maybe not, he's busy with other matters shortly.

Story arc with more twists and I know you hate cliffhangers but it's up to eighteen pages! Arrggh! *gets out laser scalpel and energon dagger* working on paring it down to post with rules. Not to be confusing but Silverblade is telling modern day Ratchet (while being repaired) about meeting Starscream in her past and the narrative flips back to that time to cover the events she DIDN'T know directly then back even FURTHER via Soundwave and his memories. Plot twists and pieces moving into play. Onward to unforeseen dangers and timely interventions.

TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR

_WL Rule # 6 Transformers try to blend in with us and our customs but are not human. Their actions reflect their concern for our well being, not that they share our weaknesses. _

_180. Do not assume our processor motivations coincide with human motivations however similar our races may appear. _

Optimus sat down gently on the sand dune, folding his massive legs upright, leaning his arms on them then resting his head on his arms. 'Peaceful and quiet,' he processed, watching the early morning sun glint off the ocean. Seagulls flew overhead calling to each other, a distant freighter's horn sounded, adding to the island atmosphere of Diego Garcia. His optics focused on a white coconut crab scuttling across the sand then returned to watching the waves. Internal timers reminded the upcoming budget meeting, NEST personnel reviews and to double check the satellite relays for the space team update. A hold was slapped on timer notes as he returned to watching the white foam riding the blue green sea waves.

'Ironhide, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are in space checking out communication satellites to see if any have been compromised with the NASA space shuttle team. I can still see their Director's face. Though whether he was more upset his technology had been stolen from us or we were aliens and no one had told him I'm still not sure,' the large blue and red mech chuckled softly.

"Ratchet, Elita and Magnus are in Australia tracking a possible Decepticon seeker hiding there. Ratchet will ensure those two get along. And be able to repair when they don't." His processer sped up as he reviewed the current officers available. "Prowl is dependable but terrible at delegating. My other team members need more experience themselves but getting them off their afts for anything other than battle or pranks is like changing spark spires. Not like I can refuse…or can I?" His lip plates changed to a smirk, the delight reflecting in his blazing optics.

Red Alert, Autobot medical assistant and Ratchet's trainee discovered Optimus sitting on the sand, watching the sea an hour later. "Sir, sorry to interrupt but," he began transforming into his bi-pedal mode from his fire chief's car disguise.

"No." Optimus stated, a flatness to his normal regal baritone.

"But sir, I didn't finish," the red and white medic said.

"No," Optimus repeated without emotion.

Most mechs would have left or stopped there but Red Alert served under Ratchet and his temper tantrums and inflexibility were endured daily. "Sir, your review on forms and orders are needed."

"I don't care," Optimus turned only his head to face him, his optics a dull blue. "You handle it." He faced back towards the sea.

"Are you functioning properly?" He asked, trying to run diagnostic scans. Every one reflected back by a low level dampening field surrounding the sitting bot.

"I'm tired and I do not care. Leave me alone."

"Do you need to recharge?"

"I did. Go away," he ordered, his vocal tone sounding weary and odd.

"If you need to recharge I can…Arrggh!" Red Alert screamed as an energon sword suddenly slid out, slicing his direction as Optimus raised his arm up and over his shoulder. Without moving the rest of his massive frame, he retracted the sword and resumed his watching position.

"I do not care what you want. I am tired of dealing with idiot humans who want nothing but to steal our technology and harass us. I am tired of fighting my own brother in a war that has nearly destroyed our race. I am tired of winning at terrible costs and being patched up and repaired and cannot even join the matrix in peace. I am tired of every bot relying on me for their hope and looking to my spilled energon to save their afts. You do what you want, I want to be left alone."

Red Alert's optics spun as his processors flipped through known processer errors and spark scenarios. Nothing in his files fit a despondent Prime who refused his duties. Silently, the mech backed up a few steps, turning and transforming before zooming off. Optimus waited until he was beyond audio range then burst out laughing, rocking on his frame. "I estimate half a breem for Prowl to contact me by comm link, not believing Red Alert. Then he will have to assign the others my tasks as he cannot be spread too thinly. Oh, I should have done this vorns ago."

To the breem estimated, Prowl's signal chimed. Optimus hesitated then deliberately opened the comm signal and slammed it close, adding a note. ::Go away. I do not care. Some other bot can handle it from now on:: Optimus sent, chuckling and stretching. He considered returning to his quarters to run a light recharge. "No, the second I appear they will need me," his optics scanned the area, selecting a wider space between the palms trees that would hold his weight and size. Transforming, he rolled into the little clearing, the ocean in front of him and Annabelle's castle to the side. Automatic reactive proximity detectors were set for any Decepticon presence or attempted intrusions. 'Last thing I need is a surprise attack,' he reasoned, triggering the recharge sequence. 'Hate to miss the meteor showers tonight because I'm holed by weapons fire or taken over by a trans mode virus.'

A breem later, Prowl approached in his bi-pedal mode, all his non-essential internal systems on standby. He saw Optimus sitting in daylight in his truck mode without moving. The faintest ping told him the mech was in recharge. He exchanged a worried look with Major Will Lennox and Master Sergeant Epps. 'No closer and he will not know we were here. My systems are barely detectable this low. He always sets automatic defenses. "

"Red Alert was right. Something is wrong with Prime," Will murmured.

"Wrong, how about tired?" Epps asked. "Big Buddha there has been fighting longer than our civilization has existed. Needs a rest, probably depressed a bit. You get mental health breaks, I do and all soldiers get R & R. When does he get a break? Ever?"

Prowl considered the concept as the humans watched their Prime. "Possible. I am sending requests for assistance to Ratchet and Ironhide and will continue to do so. The situation is non-emergency but requires their input. Both teams are in complete signal silence to avoid Decepticon detection. We must wait and watch." They left the clearing, leaving strict orders no one was to disturb him and to report the minute he moved.

That evening Optimus pulled out of recharge, transforming and feeling great. He stretched, ignoring the waiting comm messages. Striding forward, he approached the sea, hands on hip plates to watch the pounding waves.

"Optimus," a soft feminine voice called his name. He half-turned, seeing Elita approaching.

"Lita," he vented softly, feeling his spark increase. Smiling, he opened his arms and waited, calculating the distance. Bounding forward, he grabbed her when she would have stopped, hugging her close. "Mine!"

"Ahem," Ratchet and Ironhide stood behind her. "You've ignored our messages. Prowl and Red Alert are frantic and the video of your conversation this morning was not reassuring. Mind explaining?" Ratchet said, optics spinning.

ALERT! Intrusion detected! Flashed across his still active defensive systems. Automatically, he pushed Elita back to get her clear, subspacing his weapons as processers went into overdrive breaking time into fragmented seconds. The silver connection cables on her wrist wriggled from their being torn out of his wrist connection. Ratchet and Ironhide reacted, charging their systems. Then his foot slid, unable to gain traction as his weight sent the small sand dune sliding. He began tilting backward, arms wind milling as the sand collapsed. Emergency fields engaged around his chest and spark to prevent saltwater contact as his frame slammed into the sea.

KAWHOOSH!

A mini tidal wave swamped the shore. Salt water covered his face, mouth plates and optics closed. Humiliation kept him prone for a moment, before he attempted to sit up. Optics opened to see them regarding him with amused and wary expressions.

"Not one word," he growled.

::I tired to link in and he ripped out the connection:: Elita sent on a tight beam, worried and mad.

::Coordination is abnormal. Systems are hyper sensitive. Try the easy way and ask him to go to med-bay? Or not:: Ratchet sent then vented as Ironhide tackled Prime, yelling about not resisting for his own good.

In the end, Optimus was sedated and dragged onto the shore with sand crammed in his lower systems and seaweed wound around his left audio rotator. Ironhide's shields protected his chest and spark but not his left cannon. It had become detached and both had rolled over it, warping the metal encasement rings. Elita needed her leg welded after kicking both their afts and Ratchet thoroughly enjoyed chewing Optimus out about acting like a youngling then ordered him to take a few days off with Elita, after attending to the wash racks to remove the dead fish smell.

_WL Rule # 7 Transformers look like cars but their parts are not available at the local parts store so don't assume those parts are easy to replace or adjust._

_181. Do not become frustrated with human misunderstanding regarding our complex mechanical nature. They do not understand all the buttons on their TV remotes that they use daily, why would they understand interlinked internal alien systems?_

Mikeala grinned up at her Autobot teacher and friend. "Want to wager five hundred credits?" She swung her dark hair into a ponytail, letting it fall onto her white lab coat. When she appeared with Ratchet, she wore the outfit over her jeans and t-shirt per his request. He didn't care how she dressed but the professional appearance restrained human injuries from thrown wrenches. Mikeala belonged with Sam and Ratchet let no other male near her, eager to demonstrate his aim and restraint in only 'bruising' potential admirers. "Five hundred credits on the blonde communications tech asking another gender based question."

Ratchet blinked his optics at her before leaning closer. "What would you do with Cybertronian credits? And no bet, that is all he processes."

"True," she tilted her head to the side. "This war can't last forever. Sam was on Cybertron and I hope to in my lifetime," she said wistfully. "Pick up a souvenir or two."

They were interrupted by a slamming door. The wood creaked in the frame, the pictures on the wall knocked askew with the echoing force. Cliffjumper stood there, his head almost retracted onto his shoulders. "Weak hinges," he explained, taking the auditorium two steps at a time before standing normally, on the stage side. The medic ignored him, gesturing for the recruits to read the screens embedded in their desks.

"Lessons for this week plus off duty assignments. Quizzes at random. First questions?" Ratchet asked. Predictably, three familiar recruit hands went up, including the one belonging to the blonde communications tech.

"I have a personal question," he blushed, looking over at Mikeala then back towards the mech center stage. "The interfacing between Transformers, has to… that is… must…?"

"Require a mech and femme?" Ratchet anticipated, while texting a 'congratulations' and 'you win 500 credits' message to Mikeala's cell phone.

"Any way two mechs could?" he trailed off as the medic focused his spinning optics.

"Mechs have the interface rod and the femmes the matching port. A previous lecture covered there are no exceptions."

"Ever?"

"Were my teachings not clear?" he half growled, optics narrowing together. Mikeala stepped forward and addressed the man herself.

"Alien yes, different possibilities yes but their spark determines their gender. Their protoform is built on that spark recognition without variance or mistake. And before you ask, yes a mech could add an interface port or interchange the two sections however," she frowned, folding her arms. "Previous lectures have stated repeatedly the Transformers are not simple machines but complex interconnected sentient beings. Low level mechanical parts can be changed or replaced but,"

Ratchet took back over. "Transformer technology" he displayed two very different holograms of internal circuitry, "contains specific connections. The programming to register, control and transfer stimulus are gender specific and baseline coded from sparkling onlining. Each frame upgrade adds to the systems complexity. An interface port could be exchanged but unable to link directly."

"They would be a femme body with a mech spark," Cliffjumper interrupted. "Primus! What a mess that would be! System conflicts all over the parts. Glitchy and unstable."

"Mechs are mechs and femmes are femmes. At ease!" Major Lennox ordered, entering the auditorium. "For the thousandth time the Transformers are not human!"

"Humans age from children to teenagers via hormones to full adults. Transformers are not driven by hormones but programming," Mikeala stressed. "They don't dominate partners for control and have the sex crimes human do."

"We exist for thousands of years, would you let a monster roam among your kind that long? That is why our penalties are severe for certain offenses. A damaged mech or femme, within certain limitations, can transfer data and program patches or entire system relays from a fellow mech or femme. Would you want to transfer that into your systems? Neither do we," Ratchet finished. "Enough questions. Your turn. Ten responses required, you could miss one to pass. Two or more and you will review every medical alert and file there is," he quirked the edges of his lip plates up as they groaned, accepting the tests Mikeala handed out.

Cliffjumper read his, optic ridges rising up. His jaw gear dropped by the second page. 'Not %*& again!" the medic swore internally, scanning the test and recognizing the twins work. Every odd numbered question was the ones he and Mikeala had created. The even numbered ones were not.

_2. Can a Transformer get lost?_

_a. Only when a human is driving._

_b. With GWPS, Galaxy wide positioning system, radar, targeting sensors, fifty-four ways to scan from x-ray to infrared to molecular - never going to happen. _

_c. Every time we try to understand human thinking, actions, or behavior. _

_d. Better be more concerned if you can when a Transformer finds you and they are not happy. _

_e. None of the above. _

_4. Major Lennox is a long distance runner and often gets heat sick or hypothermic. In an emergency you,_

_a. Notify Ratchet to tackle the Major and drag him to med bay._

_b. If overheated, watch Ratchet dump a dump truck load of cool water on the Major. _

_c. If cold, Ratchet will grab him and wrap in a heated blanket like a sparkling and hold close. _

_d. When lost, send Grimlock the Dinobot to retrieve then listen to Ratchet lecture on safety._

_e. All of the above as stored videos for your viewing pleasure on the NEST mainframe. _

_6. When Prime got mad (yes, a Prime gets mad) he once:_

_a. Ripped the face off a Decepticon before punching through its worthless spark._

_b. Welded Ironhide's hands and feet together and welded his arm cannon to his back, firing end pointing at Ironhide._

_c. Used his pulse rifle to blast a wall, not realizing it was a major support for nearby structure and had to be rescued from the rubble._

_d. Took a jet pack and tried to follow an ascending spaceship to chase Megatron._

_e. All of the above but do not remind him of any of these or you will be answer # f. _

_8. Best way to take down a Transformer:_

_a. There is no best way to take down anything but your own short life span squishy._

_b. If there is, we ain't telling._

_c. A magnetic pulse touch and beating spark by a femme._

_d. Ironhide in a bad mood, need we say more?_

_e. Ratchet on a bad day, good day or any day in between when you are caught skipping a physical._

"Mikeala, did the twins help with this quiz?" Ratchet quietly asked.

"No, not that I know of why?"

"Those 500 credits you won, did you know they can be used to bail yourself out of the brig?" he said, holding the copy in front of her.

"Now why would I need to?" she trailed off reading the quiz. "How many do I need for offlining two mechs that deserve it?"

"That's free and I'll help," Cliffjumper volunteered, his red battle mask snapping into place before transforming into a red Camaro with black stripes. Lennox sighed, pulling out his cell phone, keying in the alarm code for twin trouble to alert all Autobots. Beyond that, it was up to them to escape Mikeala.

_**Story Arc – "Finding who you are" **_(part three) Starscream and Silverblade

On the moon bases command center, the standoff continued. Surprisingly, the silver seeker seemed excited by her threat. "Your name femme?" His red optics filtered up her entire frame, from foot pads to the silver chevron on her front helm.

"Lead technician Silverblade and the last bot your optics will discern. Now, where is the proof?" The hum of her weapon charge increased. Teasingly, she deliberately flipped her shoulder inner link several times, making it sound like the safeties were disengaging and the targeting locks setting. 'Thinks he is Primus gift to femmes and invincible? Darkstrength is right, all seekers are vain,' she thought.

He vented rapidly, faceplates flipping through half a dozen expression variations before tossing a data chip her direction. The console data port confirmed the orders that a mech named Soundwave would arrive and need mainframe access without being recorded. 'How nice the seeker's name is not mentioned or his supposed rank,' she thought. Her shoulder cannon returned to its storage in subspace.

He started forward then hesitated as her wrist blasters hummed. "The orders clear Soundwave, not you messenger mech. Why are you here?"

"My program upgrades will allow us to create the army we need. We can conquer Cybertron for the glorious Decepticon cause and see the Primes crushed underfoot." He gloated, raising one fist towards the ceiling.

Silverblade pretended to appear bored."Upgrades work when tested then fail when the next patch is added. You tangle with Primes and you lose. I want power and command authority. Not obtainable if you are in pieces or tied up with energon supply reports for your great army seeker. Now leave. I have a base to run. Unless you want to tell Lord Megatron why the shifts were delayed?" She pretended to glare, letting red seep into her optics. He half bowed, his full red optics never leaving her as he turned and left. She burst out laughing the moment the lift closed. 'Thank you Lightwind for teaching me to change optic color and appear so arrogant. Better hide this,' her Decepticon symbol rotated back inside.

"I was in the command center," Silverblade told Ratchet, pulling herself out of the past. "I was telling Darkstrength and Lightwind, not realizing it was Starscream. A request for my presence on the flight deck, high priority override required by maintenance flashed across our systems. I told them I would be right back."

"What happened?" Ratchet asked, pulling back from welding her main spine. Her story fascinated him but his processer had already correlated the time and location and he knew the disaster that was coming. It was the event that first made him realize the war was growing and threatening to involve their entire world.

"From what I could piece together, Decepticons boarded the station, an Autobot assault force close behind. I only knew I was needed on the flight deck, not an unusual request." Her optics closed as she relived the events, never knowing the movements beyond her knowledge.

Decks below the command center, Starscream leaned on the bulkhead, listening to the thrumming of his spark. 'Never has a femme caused me to feel like this,' he vented. 'Arrogant, power hungry and perhaps worthy of my attentions.' His internal comm flashed its highest priority incoming alert.

::Starscream you fool. You're late. Is the moon base ready?:: Megatron

::Lord Megatron a thousand pardons. I…was delayed. It is as you command:: Starscream

"Do not fail me," Megatron's voice deepened and sounded ahead of Starscream.

'Oh pit,' the seeker realized as the Decepticon commander appeared in his bi-pedal mode, Soundwave and two of his cassette warriors following close behind.

"I watched that little scene via Soundwave's monitoring," the Decepticon leader sneered.

"That femme handed you your aft right quick," Rumble snickered, staying out of reach behind Soundwave's legs.

"That femme is none of your concern," Starscream snarled.

"Maybe she should be mine. A fiery spark can be broken and made to serve," Megatron growled.

Soundwave watched the two of them verbally clash before Starscream retreated towards the shuttle. "Rumble, Ravage attend Megatron." The mechs left as his processors reviewed her file. His optics flared and spun wildly for an astro second. "Decision made. Secrecy required. Signal request sent."

Silverblade exited the main lift, stopping as a large silver blue square mech faced her. "Can I help you?" He never moved as the flash threw her into stasis shutdown. She floated in darkness, hearing the faintest sounds and feeling a gently rise and fall like floating. Optics opened slowly, discerning the hallway stripe for the private shuttle areas. Rotating her head up, the silver blue mech's face filled her vision. 'Red eyes, not familiar,' she processed fuzzily, systems still disabled. Silverblade struggled weakly, barely moving.

"Be at peace little one, the stars shine long for us," Soundwave quoted in a deep monotone, nearly sending her back under in shock by using the clan greeting. He carried her to a private shuttle lock, before setting her down gently inside.

"Why?" She asked, her vocals barely audible.

"Parameters indicate insufficient cognitive indicators for relative battle conditions," he stated. Her confusion must have been evident. "Translated too nice. Continual inhabitation of moon base detrimental. Megatron demonstrates dangerous interest."

"In me?" she realized the danger that meant. "You're sending me away to protect, why?"

"Irrelevant," he stated, optics focused on the wall. They cycled in tight as though in pain before refocusing. The door hissed open, revealing a short docking tube. He carried her inside, before raising his hand to her optics. A flash and she was out in full recharge. He set the shuttle controls for a neutral mining base and watched the ship depart under AI control. A massive orange ship approached from the other direction.

"Autobots detected, Prime Mechner and assault force. Decepticon victory assured. Clan symbol remains secret," the Decepticon tactician stated, his memory processor bringing up the image of his spark sister. Her image was almost identical to that of Silverblade. Soundwave knew he should be combat ready but his long dormant pain flared to life. He closed his optics, accessing a data file kept with his tightest firewalls and fragmented among his spark settings to hide its existence. In astro seconds, it reassembled, allowing him to relieve a history only two knew.

Her apartment in the city of Trypticon was small but colorful. He never tired of its light and celebration of the diversity of Cybertronic culture. But its cheerfulness failed as their argument continued.

"The clan elders have worked hard and long on this arrangement. The mech is a politician, scientist and no one speaks ill of him," the young silver femme stated, as though trying to convince herself.

"Join the Decepticons," he offered, holding out both armored hands. She vented softly, moving forward to let him embrace her.

"I'm not a warrior 'Wave. I want a simple existence. A loving mech sparkmate, sparklings and a home. This bond ceremony units two powerful clans." Her quiet spark beat was barely detectable to his sensors, a reminder of her delicate nature.

"Negative. Arrangement unsuitable. Happiness low probability," he challenged, wanting to hold her and never let go.

"Win this war. Change our history. Until then, stay safe my brother. I am going to bond with Alpha Trion. Will you be there?" Her optics locked onto his as she stepped back.

"Uncertain. The Fallen commands, I obey," he avoided a direct answer, locking the emotional pain down. They talked a short time then he left, the closing of her door a pain through his spark. He never contacted their parental unit, missing the bonding ceremony to research sparklings and spark splitting. Private comm links confirmed his sister well and happy. He always left the location of the next Decepticon meeting and an offer to attend. She refused, wanting to give the relationship time as the orns passed. His emotions became more locked, his words fewer as her life slowly became less and less. Then the comm call that changed everything.

"Soundwave acknowledges," he answered, not reading the signal coding.

"We have two mech sparklings 'Wave! You have to see them!" Her voice transmitted her sheer joy.

"Affirmative." Soundwave received the coordinates to meet at. She waited for him in the gardens outside the Temple Proper, both sparklings in a carrying lift. The younger sparkling, with his blue markings was quiet, sipping his energon bottle slowly. The older silver sparkling caught his interest. He drained his bottle, then stole the other bottle, slapping at his brother.

"Now now. Don't be a fussy little mech," she encouraged, before gently wrestling the stolen one away. Both were given a second bottle. "He is strong willed."

"Alpha Trion's standing?" Soundwave asked.

"No, they are orphans from the disaster. We never bonded. He wants their origins kept a secret. He's at the Senate then scheduled for research in the labs, like always," her expression saddened, revealing her loneliness. Then the little blue mech kicked, reaching for her.

"Orion is sweet and loves to be cuddled," she stroked his little blue helm plates tenderly. "Megatron prefers Alpha and has to be watched or gets into mischief, grabbing everything to his side. It's all I can do to take care of them and keep my processors from tripping."

Soundwave's optics glittered. Emotion stirred his processors. Pure unadulterated hate. Hate for a mech that denied his sister a fulfilled life then burdened her with orphaned mechs like a nurse bot. He would wait for them to age then one or both would meet his leader, the Fallen. And they would turn on Alpha Trion and he would lose his spark and his dreams of a perfect society before the Decepticons. And Soundwave would find the mate worthy of his sister as Cybertron became the conquerors of the universe.

_To be continued…_

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Author's Notes: Yes, Soundwave's sister is the femme who was arranged bonded with Alpha Trion and became the femme who would raise the orphaned Optimus (then know as Orion) and Megatron. That is why he helped Silverblade because they are the same clan but she is NOT his sister or direct relation. Their clan had hundreds of mechs and femmes, small but powerful. Larger clans had over a million mechs and femmes before the war.


	54. Chapter 54 Understanding the past pt 3

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Okay, I'm picking on Optimus again but he is good natured and handles too much responsibility too seriously. I don't believe in any prank or system that overrides total personal control but adding a little fun to the day's work is okay via another holographic rule. And cliffhanger for the story arc. Major battle sequence is next and I suck at descriptions plus time snags are holding it up. Will post soon.

Rule #187 Lydia DeMarco is borrowed from the wonderful fic "_What Comes Around_" by ladyofdarkstar here on fan fiction. Excellent long runing fic to read and enjoy. Link on my profile page. Lydia is only visiting by permission of author and will return unharmed, least by me. The Galloway sector seven quote is from tf wiki site.

Story arc warning: Prime Mechner is not an idiot; just a Prime that has never lost trusting in physical strength and that old tactics would handle a new enemy. If mistakes hadn't been made early in the war, it could have been stopped. Ten joors is about sixty hours. Onward to two genders, two different races and mixing them in one universe.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

_WL Rule# 8 Never prank Optimus Prime unless you know he will laugh at it. You do not anger the biggest, most war experienced, and intelligent bot and expect to use the excuse, 'we thought it would be funny,' and expect to remain online or intact._

_164. Do not alter holographic drivers into random shapes based on keywords._

"I understand Major, have a good day," Optimus signed off then sagged his lip plates into a frown. Internal displays registered his own systems were projecting a hologram shape, keyed by the word _'understand.'_ Curious, he turned and saw his reflection in the picture glass on his office wall, a yellow glowing light bulb floating above his blue helm. "They didn't," he narrowed his optics in anger then tried another phrase. "I don't understand," keyed a second floating yellow light bulb hologram. "They did," he realized. Internal diagnostics ran, detecting no trace of any other keyed words or hologram emitter code patches. "Those two are inventive. In trouble but inventive," he acknowledged. Satisfied the prank was harmless, he continued working as the holograms faded.

The report was completed, electronically signed and forwarded. "Before I recharge and run internal resets, I will have to show her their prank," he said then twitched back in his chair. Large white fluffy feathers drifted down. "What the?" he looked up at the ceiling as the feathers moved up before continuing to fall. "Another hologram," he realized, shifting his vision side to side, the falling white feathers matching the directional changes. Key word, _'recharge._' The internal diagnostic detected no traces of tampering or changes.

"Why do I get the feeling there are more than two word triggers?" he murmured then made a decision. "I need help and I know the exact mech to ask."

::Ratchet, are you available?:: Optimus

::My schedule is full until evening with protoform designs:: Ratchet answered.

::I'm busy with reports myself:: He groaned, seeing the colorful juggling circus balls appearing around his hands keyed by the word _'busy._'

::The why the interruption?:: Ratchet's mental tone conveyed his grumpiness.

::Needed a systems adjustment:: Optimus

::Is it serious?:: Ratchet

::No, not serious. I have another matter to tie up first. Sorry to have disturbed you:: Optimus closed the signal. Golden coiled rope holograms appeared around his chest and arms, the ends tying and untying themselves. Four words and another diagnostic showed no alterations, changes or additions to his systems.

Optics closed, metal fingers tapping his desk top before deciding to take the holographic system offline. "_Unable to locate specified system_," flashed across his main processor. "Unable to locate?" he repeated then tapped metal fingers faster as the solar system hologram displayed, zeroing in on earth then Diego Garcia then his office at the word _'locate'._ Five words and no responses to the diagnostic scans.

"I am going to seal my door with explosives when I recharge from now on. That will keep those slacking twins away." He blinked as two human girls appeared on a bicycle, circling him before riding away, chewing and blowing bubble gum bubbles, keyed by the word _'twins'_. Six words and no diagnostic scan errors or changes detected.

KAWHAM!

His metal fist slammed into the desk, cracking the top of it. Optics snapped shut as he grabbed his anger and locked it down. 'I am not a youngling that can indulge in fits of temper. I am not injured nor any under my command threatened. It is only an inconvenience.' A shuffling sound had him looking up to see Ratchet standing in the doorway, his multi layered optics spinning in full scan mode.

"Do not move Prime," he ordered. "You never ask for help and run from me and med bay. So when you call and ask for a systems reset it is serious. I can confirm your spark is intact, all major and minor parts attached. Optics are lit and processors are functioning. However," his face took on a serious look before forming a smirk. "Your desk is critically injured. What needs resetting besides your temper?"

"They reset my holographic driver program. Words trigger images around me. Like understand, recharge, and busy," Optimus said. The medic watched the demonstration, his lip plates twitching.

"Original. Prowl will have fun crafting the wording on this rule," His yellow green body shifted as he approached. "Stand and raise your left arm. The access is under your side chest plates."

"I know that," he grumbled but did as instructed. Ratchet transformed his fingers into splayed prongs and clamps to begin removing the outer armor. Two layers were removed and sitting on the desk top when the office door opened again, a familiar black warrior mech standing there, report data pad in his hand.

"Am I interrupting?" Ironhide asked, the faintest tone of worry.

"No, I was expecting you," Optimus began as his entire shape shifted out and down, as though he was nine months pregnant like a human female.

"Optimus Prime? Or should I say Optimus Pudge? Optimus Pot Belly?" Ironhide chuckled, echoing the round shape with his hands.

"Maybe you should cut back on the energon snacks," Ratchet quipped.

"I intend to cut their creative processors out. Where are they?" Optimus growled, not detecting their energy signals anywhere on base.

"Twins volunteered for a long range scout mission today," Ironhide answered, watching the hologram of identical girls circle them before disappearing.

"Hold this," Ratchet said, handing out the matrix of leadership. More armor followed before he reached the transmitter. "Disabled. Try it now."

"Understand, recharge, busy." All three waited then relaxed as nothing happened.

"Thank you Ratchet. Elita can help replace HEY!" Optimus yelled as a mini image of his femme sparkmate appeared on his forearm, dancing and shucking armor. Embarrassed, he covered the image with his other hand. Keyword _Elita_.

::Wow. Wonder if she could teach Chromia those moves:: Ironhide

::Twins better move to the moon after that stunt:: Ratchet sent then focused on Optimus. "Forgot your reserve transmitter for the in cab holographic driver of your alt mode. My bad," Ratchet said, opening the wrist plating.

"Can you duplicate their work? I have the exact words for the twins to trigger. Say, after their next recharge when the femmes are around? Humiliate and embarrass them right down to their sparks?" The big bot asked mischievously. "Eli….the femme commander can help."

That night, Optimus explained the prank and asked for Elita's input on keywords in their private quarters. She did then demanded to see her image. He sighed and retriggered the program, "I love you Elita." And watched as her optics narrowed then widened. Her lip plates twitched before opening for a full laugh.

"Not bad. Was it like this?" she moved side to side, getting his complete focused attention. "I really do prefer motions more like this," she shifted movements as his jaw gears dropped. Her chest plates began to open as she moved forward, her spark calling to his. "Why dance off armor when it slides out of the way?"

_WL Rule# 9 Never upset a budget liaison without being prepared for the consequences. They have no sense of humor and your budget can be cut down to cardboard boxes, two screwdrivers, crayons and a shoelace. MacGyver we are not. NEST needs weapons and replacement parts._

_187. Do not assume human threats are a prelude to a true attack. They use words, threatening posturing and display weapons with no intention of violence while other humans will laugh, smile and stab you through your spark without hesitation. _

Lieutenant Commander Lydia DeMarco watched the man climb out of the car, making a mental bet. He was a government liaison like her but his views would be worlds apart. She drove a bright red 1964 Porsche 911 with black tinted windows; he arrived in a silver Cadillac four door sedan with an assistant in tow. Her former military experience helped her maintain, a fit, athletic body even without the added speed and strength of her Cybertronian repair implants. He was another middle-aged, balding human with a paunch who probably lacked the spine to hold a weapon, nevertheless listen to an explanation about the costs of repairing one. She had once threatened any Autobot that made her life misery to return the favor fivefold. He looked the type to threaten a five-hour meeting to discuss budget adjustments.

"Let me guess, doesn't believe the Transformers are valuable and humans need the money more than them," she muttered. Her artificial eye glowed green, hidden behind sunglasses. "Welcome to Diego Garcia Mr. Johnson," and she smiled. "We have a lot to discuss. I have outdoor seating arranged with refreshments. This way please."

Three hours later she glared at him, wondering for the tenth time how he got assigned to review her work. "Look," she began, pinching her nose as the headache threatened to become worse. "Why don't I just beat my head on that flag pole ten times and we call it even? The pain could not be worse, and the end result would be as successful. Neither of us are willing to budge at this point." His assistant smiled then looked anywhere but at her as he stood behind his boss.

"Young woman, time with them has affected you. Be reasonable. Budgets means cuts. You are unwilling to bend. Like steel." He countered, wiping at his sweaty forehead. The sun beat down mercilessly and for once Lydia was grateful. Prowl and Ratchet monitored her office and her fluctuating life signs brought on by frustration and resisting the urge to show him how like the Autobots she was would have had the medic by her side instantly. "I am not young Mr. Johnson and I am reasonable. Our profits from the asteroid mining these three months more than covers the next five years budget." She tapped a bright red painted fingernail on the files.

"My point exactly. Cut now and the budget can reach ten or even twenty years and the excess money will be useful for the rest of humanity," he said, shifting in the wood chair, reaching for another glass of water after his assistant poured it, adding a lemon slice.

"Other budget wastes you mean," she realized, disgusted at his true intention. "You don't care for the Transformers or their needs, only how much money you can siphon off!" She shouted, snapping to full combat readiness out of habit. On her feet, body tense and hands clear to grab or throw.

He struggled out of his chair, trying to match her defiant stance even as his belly sagged over his pants. "You and your precious robots." He stepped forward, nose to nose with her. "No one can save you now DeMarco. We will slash this budget and you will stay exiled on this base forever."

"Back off before this goes where you don't want it to," she threatened, feeling the heat in her chest increasing. Her artificial green eye was shifting to red but remained hidden behind the sunglasses as the pounding headache increased.

"You are outnumbered. My staff can wring blood from a turnip or a transistor. You are no different," he snarled.

"I will offline before letting a sniveling weasel like you take their money. Do your worse," she snapped, forgetting how far reaching their alien hearing was. Or how protective her Autobot family really was. Dramatics were not her usual forte but her patience was at an end. And the middle of the far airfield should have been a safe, deserted area to argue. The Autobot command officers had their official duties and her budget meeting scheduled when Arcee and the others were in their own meetings. Unknown to Lydia, theirs had been rescheduled.

The liaison clenched his fists, face turning almost purple with anger as the ground begun vibrating, the water pitcher shaking as the thump thump thump sound increased. A red optic, snarling metal Tyrannosaurus Rex stomped into view, heading directly for them. The assistant squeaked before diving under the table.

Lydia yelled, her voice lost in his angry roar. The man began screaming as the massive metal tyrannosaurus Rex roared again, opening his jaw and grabbing for him.

CRUNCH

The screaming stopped as the man disappeared.

Lydia wiped her face with her hand, recognizing the other Autobot alt forms rapidly approaching from all directions. Optimus and Wheeljack were headed directly for Grimlock but their speed was nominal compared to the all too familiar yellow green rescue hummer aiming her way. Arcee, Ironhide and Chromia transformed on the runway edge, facing outward with weapons hot. Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Jolt transformed, forming the next rank. Cliffjumper, Bumblebee and Jazz followed the pattern, battle masks engaged. The command officers slowed, transforming into their bi pedal modes as they faced Grimlock and her.

"Grimlock, release the man," Optimus quietly commanded. The Dinobot waved his short stubby arms as if to say why?

"His vitals show increasing distress and he will regurgitate or lubricate himself." Red optics went wide as he confirmed the readings. The Dinobot kneeled rapidly on one leg, opening his jaws and dropping the human out.

The man whimpered, shaking while curled in a fetal position. Grimlock tried to wipe the inside of his jaw with his claws.

"He's okay. Not a mark on him," the assistant assessed after crawling out from under the table.

"Why wouldn't he be?" Lydia asked, her tone heavy with sarcasm. "Transformers drink energon as in pour the acidy liquid energy down a tube not a throat. Did you even read the initial disclosures? From Optimus to Bumblebee they all have the same network of tubes and filters for a liquid fuel diet. Tubes that need replacing or patching and are in this budget."

"He's dry. Seems okay," the assistant continued tugging on his bosses tightly wrapped arms without getting a response.

"Think dumb aft! No tongue or taste buds for food, no muscles for chewing and no saliva. They do not have throats or stomachs and no intestines. Grimlock's jaws end in a solid metal hinge." Lydia pointed up at Grimlock. "That idiot safely panicked in a large metal box."

"And you wouldn't?"

"Haven't yet," Lydia smugly answered. "I've ridden there twice, not that it is any of your business."

"What were you doing?" Wheeljack asked, his sidebars clashing with curiosity colors.

"Grimlock has no interior cab in his alt mode. This is it," she pointed to the metal dinosaur. "Safest place at the time was under his armor," she answered, holding her breath as Ratchet frowned.

"Why under the armor? Any danger that severe would mean?" The medic glared at both of them, rapidly pulling base records and reports for the last orns.

"Grimlock go. Need cleaner in mouth."

"I'll help," Lydia quickly chimed in. "Use a scrub brush for you big guy." They both made less than a third of the way across the air strip when the first silver wrench sailed by and the cursing began.

_**Story Arc – "Finding who you are" **_(part four)

_Review: Soundwave's sister was arranged to be bonded to Alpha Trion, a prominent scientist and politician who did not love her and never truly bonded with her. The Fallen, the first Decepticon began killing the Primes and their families as only a Prime could defeat him. A pair of Primes realized the danger and hid their mech sons, Orion Pax and Megatron during a city wide disaster. They were found and secretly adopted by Alpha Trion to help his public image. Soundwave hates Alpha and vowed to turn one or both orphans to the Fallen as they get older for revenge. Now in his fourth / adult frame, Megatron secretly leads the Decepticon forces, arriving on the first Cybertron moon base as Prime Mechner and his war ship closes in. Silverblade worked on the station and joined the Decepticons after being refused for her small size by the Autobots and Prime Mechner. Soundwave recognizes her clan sign as identical to his sister and sent her off station to save her from Megatron and Starscream. _

In the Autobot med bay on Diego Garcia, Silverblade continued her narrative to Ratchet. "I came online in the shuttle over ten joors later. It followed the preprogrammed course to the distant mining colony. Once there, I learned what had happened," her optics dimmed with sorrow. "I should have been there. I could have stopped their deaths. I was one of them. A Decepticon," she murmured.

Ratchet pulled out of her leg repairs, reforming both extensions into his normal hands. He reached for her silver colored hands, holding them tightly. "No bot told you did they?" he asked, optics barely flickering as he linked into the comm system while facing her. "You need to talk to Prowl."

"Prowl? Why?" Her old wariness and fear reasserted itself. The second in command was the last mech she wanted to deal with. The Prime had warned her to keep her Decepticon past a secret and the medic wanted her to talk to the Autobot Chief Security Officer ? No way.

He followed her thought process and held still as she twitched, receiving a relay from Optimus instructing her to ask Prowl about the attack with his permission. Optimus himself would set up the meeting and her secret would remain hidden.

"I don't understand," she said glancing up at the medic.

"You will. Let me finish restringing your leg cables then recharge. Autobots watch over their own, regardless of clan or social position Silverblade. I was high family, politician in the Senate and now, I am the chief medical officer and serve the lug heads who think being a warrior means begin a target. You need the work through no fault of your own. Now rest," he laid one hand on her silver helm, triggering the recharge cycle.

The alert timer beeped, bringing her out of recharge. Optics opened to a white ceiling. 'Oh yah, med bay. I remember,' She processed, sitting up.

"Silverblade?" An unfamiliar mech voice asked, causing her to flinch, nearly sliding off the berth backwards. A tall black and white mech stood there, watching her without emotion.

"Prowl," she stated.

"Before you become concerned, I was the tactician and strategist to Prime Mechner on the first moon base assault. Those events were heavily suppressed and over time the records lost except for those few of us still online," he said, emotion flicking through his optics. His wrist plate slid back, extending cable connections out. "No amount of words will convince. You need to see to understand."

"Connect to me? You sure? I don't even know you," she stalled, wondering if she really needed to know that badly.

He waited until she accepted the cables, their firewalls and internal protections intact as he retrieved a heavily guarded memory file. It opened and they were one memory out of the past on the warship _Infamy_.

Prowl stood ramrod straight in the lift while reviewing the battle plans with irritation, his white wing doors straight up. "Prime or not, this mech cannot be serious." The lift doors opened, revealing the orderly chaos of the bridge. Prime Mechner stood dead center, his tall green frame crested by his bright red square helm and blazing optics. Large mechs moved among the command stations, monitoring the orbiting moon station filing the panoramic front view.

"Sir, all teams are activated and waiting," Prowl reported. "I do have concerns regarding the fail safe settings."

"Concerns?" His high pitched vocal tone made light of the word. "This is your first mission is it not?"

"First combat mission under you. I have combat experience, full academy training and an impeccable record sir," he reminded.

The tall mech waved his qualifications aside. "Speed and strength win. Processors cannot replace size and a good energon sword. Should I fall in battle, however unlikely, this war ship will fire on the station, removing the control room and the main propulsions systems. I will see it rendered helpless before allowing the Decepticons a victory. Take forever to rid those glitch mice out and I will not let an orbiting moon base become a launching platform for attacks."

Prowl frowned never hearing concern for the Transformers inhabiting and working on the station who were about to be caught in the cross fire. "Sir, let those settings remain but keyed to two command officers as a fail safe."

"Worried about me?" he grinned arrogantly, patting the smaller officer like a youngling. "Never happen Prowlzer."

"That's Prowl sir," he corrected stepping back. "Everything cannot rely on one mech."

"I'm not a mech, I'm a Prime," he tapped the traditional square lined engraving on his inner arm plate. "Means I am the one qualified to lead. And to a great victory I shall lead. You will see and this joor will be remembered as another in a line on unbroken victories."

Prowl hesitated, unsure how to reason with the Prime. Logic dictated leading the combat team level by level was folly as well as blowing up the station they were sent to defend if the battle turned. The end result was the same, destruction and offlining.

"Connect to the docking bay, blow the airlock then have all teams proceed to level four," Mechner ordered.

"Sir," Prowl interrupted. "The hallways on level four are small per schematics. Power plant is on that level. That many large mechs,"

"Will wipe the decks with any Decepticons. They need to shut down the power plant to control the station. We stop them there," he explained, gesturing for the bots to enter the lifts. "On we go." The next breems passed by in a blur. The docking, marching onto the station and descending to level four.

"Enemy detected ahead. Five mechs behind a temporary barricade. Jammers are all around. Area could be filled with Decepticons," the lead scout warned.

"I recommend caution. Setting is data pad perfect for an ambush," Prowl stated, looking around the two massive warrior mechs standing between him and Prime Mechner.

"Five? That is a scouting force. We can handle them," he stated. "Jammers are to hide their low numbers. I will handle this." He strode forward, his two assault mechs following.

"I AM PRIME MECHNER, IDENTIFY YOUR LEADER FOR NEGOTIATION OF TERMS OF SURRENDER" he broadcasted. Four small mechs and one large mech half hidden in the shadows barely moved into optic range.

Prowl's lip plates frowned, identifying Ravage, Rumble, Ratbat and Overkill. The tall mech remained behind the jammers, his image blurring and protected. "Where is Soundwave? Those are his cassettes. And why them? What are we missing?"

"I command here." A tall silver mech with heavily reinforced armor stated, moving into the light. His red optics remained steady as the sneer on his lip plates. The arm gun hummed with black crackling energy, contrasting with his straight pulled metal armoring.

"Megatron? Your mech creator Alpha Trion will not be amused. You are fourth frame and too trained for this foolishness," Mechner said, his tone disapproving. His battle mask slid back as he straightened, putting his weapons on standby.

"He is not my creator. Or didn't you know? I serve the Fallen," he tapped the Decepticon insignia. "Alpha Trion has many secrets. I know them all. Like his work on this moon base. The central computer holds his research on weapon transforms. He will be upset when he discovers the files missing. And when he realizes I led the attack, tsk tsk." The Decepticon leader enjoyed the nasty chuckling of his troops. His optics focused on a point behind the Prime. "You won't be there when he is told however."

Prowl swore as the jamming signal stopped, revealing Decepticons exploding out of hiding from all directions. Processors identified them as he turned back to back with a warrior shock trooper. "Shockwave, Starscream, Thundercracker, Skywarp, Scourge, Blackout, Barricade, Scrapper, Bonecrusher, Long Haul, Shrapnel, Barrage, Ransack…" he shut off the list. "If we remain online after this, I'll just add 'and others' to the report."

"Decepticons, destroy them!" Megatron commanded as he, Soundwave, and Starscream fired simultaneously into the Prime. Weapons fire erupted throughout the hallway as Cybertronian curses and screams rang out.

_To be continued…_


	55. Chapter 55 Understanding the past pt 4

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and I am now on _live journal_ ! Yes, get the insights behind chapters and ideas and my conversations with Prowl and the other Transformers or just read long boring author notes not able to fit in here. I am listed there as hummergrey. Pretty much my standard id for all online life.

Rule #185 is based on fan requests to explain the "no waking Mikeala up" rule mentioned before in general. Hope it is what you wanted and expected.

Sorry if the story arc last chapter shocked some readers expecting only light and fluffy stuff. This arc chapter is the darkest as it is a war battle. Onward to surviving and being the one to live and learn.

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_WL Rule# 10 Do not underestimate a wife or girlfriend's strength or temper just because they seem nice when around us. And remember to warn the Transformers! They think their vast knowledge and handling the femmes of their race equips them to handle ours. Don't let them get killed because of that. _

_185. Do not interfere in human relationships however close we are to both the mech and the femme. Their emotions cannot merge like a spark to heal and sync processors._

The Autobot's day shift began coming out of recharge, sliding off their bunks and uploading data updates from the mainframe. Each stretched their own unique way, testing movement. One stiff gear could make the difference between joining those online and joining the matrix. In the main complex, the corvette twins began their day, Sunstreaker automatically turning to his full length mirror wall. "Where are our bumpers?"

"Bumpers?" Sideswipe glanced over at the smooth metal wall, noticing his reflection was missing the front and rear bumpers. "They pranked us!"

"Whose they?"

"Any bot or human we pranked recently bro," Sideswipe reasoned.

Sunstreaker grinned. "That's pretty much the whole base. Though Prime was last." A quick search confirmed the bumpers were nowhere in their quarters or by the doorway. No messages waited in their personal in boxes or on the Autobot only comm lines. "Human then and our favorite couple is the number one suspect."

"Bumblebee's last report said they have been fighting. He's worried about them being a couple. You know what that means?"

"Betting pool on when they split and who they team with next? 5,000 credits say Ratchet and Mikeala. Hey!" Sunstreaker yelped as his twin slapped the back of his helm hard.

"Don't get perverted on me! We're twins and I do not want that in my processors! Human and mech? Yeech. No more late night internet fiction stories for you!" The silver mech groused, sheathing and unsheathing his swords to check readiness. "Let's go."

They entered the main hangar, receiving startled looks as humans noticed the missing bumpers and empty brackets.

"You get bumped off?" Major Will Lennox joked from his console on the main platform.

"Bumped into trouble twins?" Mikeala smiled sweetly, her elevated heartbeat giving away her part in the prank. Her long dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, the white med coat in place for the morning recruit review.

"Things do go bump in the night," Sam added. "Changes happen." He half glared at Mikeala, deliberately turning his back on her. His shirt and jeans were rumpled, evidence he had spent the night riding with Bumblebee across the mainland in his unhappiness. The yellow scout was nowhere to be seen, his energy signature stable in the Autobot quarters.

::I think Sam and Mikeala need to be closer:: Sideswipe

::And tomorrow is a new day. First things first:: Sunstreaker

"Where are our bumpers?" Sideswipe asked.

"Didn't you notice the big pink bows by the main gates in the support of cancer awareness month? Metal tie painted bright pink? All donated for a good cause," Mikeala smirked as she left alongside Ratchet.

Near midnight, the twins stopped outside the human guest quarters, transforming down into their corvette alt modes. Sideswipe pulled into himself, focusing the energy transmitter into his hologram form, solidifying it. The tall muscular human looking shape opened the door slowly before stopping in front of Mikeala's guest room. He gripped the metal can, releasing the spray under the door gap. His hearing confirmed Mikeala's breathing slow as the sleeping gas took effect. Entering noiselessly, he pulled the blankets back, grabbing her silk nightgown, pulling her form up. RRIIIPPPP! He clutched the pink silk piece in his hand, her body dropping back to the bed with the rest.

::Would you hurry it up! We're about to have company:: Sunstreaker sent, detecting the other Autobots making the rounds of their night patrol.

"Frag it," he swore, grabbing her form into his arms, ignoring the material as it slid off, leaving Mikeala naked. Outside, her skin was pink and picture perfect under the moonlight. The mechs stared at her body.

"She's…ugly! Smooth flat skin, rounded shapes. Hideous," he shuddered, barely able to hold her as he approached his twin's alt mode.

"No lines or raised plates to grab or caress, ugh. Worse looking race yet," Sunstreaker moaned, turning his optics away. "Load her in my trunk and get this over with. I have to drink energon later and her squishy shape is the last image I need before that." He loaded her then collapsed the hologram. Both corvettes drove off before Jazz and Jolt noticed.

::Sam is in Ironhide's room::Sunstreaker

::Why there and not the human quarters?:: Sideswipe

His twin vented softly. ::Bumblebee sleeps in the bunk on the far wall when Chromia is not there. When Chromia is, he has the small spare room at the end of the hall. The one next to the human road and all their noise. He's a scout and the noise interrupts his recharge cycle. Sam sleeps on Bumblebee's bunk in Ironhide's room when he can or by Bumblebee. It's a human feel safe with big mech guarding thing I guess:: Sunstreaker

::Isn't Bumblebee a little old to be sharing rooms with other mechs?:: Sideswipe asked, transforming to remove Mikeala from the other's trunk.

::Old enough to have nightmares from being held and tortured. And scouts see it all, you know that. Remember trying to prank Hound? Blasted you within five qualms of distance when no other mech would even have known we were there or reacted. Name one scout that always sleeps alone in a room by himself or herself and not shares the space? However hazardous to the other occupant it might be?:: Sunstreaker reminded, running an ultra violet sanitizing light through his empty trunk before transforming.

::Good point. Glad I'm a fighter. Remove Sam's clothes?:: Sideswipe asked before his twin violently shook his head a negative.

Sunstreaker released his canister above the youth, Sam's heartbeat slowing. "Put her down already before I gag," he said, holding the blankets back. She was dropped beside him, head and arm positioned to lie on his chest.

"A joor and the fun begins," Sideswipe held his red armored hands out, triggering an ultra violet sanitizing light across them. "I need the wash racks after this."

When morning came, Jolt was sent to find Mikeala and bring her to med bay for training. Ratchet had called her cell phone and guest quarters repeatedly without a response.

::Femme is missing. Clothing is here but ripped. Power signature echo is Autobot but not definable. No sign of struggle or injury:: Jolt

::Check Ironhide's room, she might be with Sam. If not, ask the boy but do not alert him to the situation. I'll contact Prime and Prowl:: Ratchet

Jolt triggered his energy bends, blue electrical current covering the metal fingers without triggering the full energy whip. The walk between the human quarters and their private area had him edgy. He cared for Mikeala and promised dire vengeance if she was missing even a strand of her long dark hair.

::Ratchet, prep med-bay:: Jolt relayed, passion in his mental tone.

::How bad are her injuries? What happened? Online enough to move or do you need me there? Do you need backup?: Ratchet fired the questions off rapidly, his distress evident.

::She's fine. Heartbeat detected with Sam's in Ironhide's room. Major twins are here and too close to the humans to attack but their chassis are mine:: Jolt fumed.

What happened next would be replayed multiple times to the delight of the other Autobots even though the sequence was never completely understood. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker blared their car horns, laughing as both humans came instantly awake.

"Huh, what? Arrggh!" Sam screamed as he realized Mikeala was next to him and naked. He scrambled backwards across the large recharge berth, confused and disorientated.

Her eyes opened, hands fumbling as she saw the twins. It was Chromia's and Ironhide's room and it was their bed. Any weaponry or armor they removed and left was their choice. Mikeala reached over her head and felt a large sphere. Throwing it, she searched for anything else to grab.

Sunstreaker's armor should have protected him against the explosive charge. Except for the gap in his center plates. Ratchet had threatened to weld his aft to the wall to retool the fitting and he had steadily avoided the medic, not wanting to take the time to have his paint scrapped down to its base, layered and repainted.

Sunstreaker's defensive systems registered the sphere as it approached, screaming directional warnings. He took one step back, colliding with Sideswipe as the charge detonated, amplifying the effect to them both. Jolt flattened against the wall, balancing on one foot as their seizing forms hit the floor and thrashed around. Optimus, Ratchet and Ironhide burst through the main doors sliding to a stop. Mikeala, wrapped in Sam's blanket, one shoulder uncovered, stomped out swearing while Sam peeked around the doorframe, keeping his distance from her.

"Slagging, thick processors, chipped logic circuit, slow aft! Wake me will you!" She screamed, kicking at the nearest downed mech. "Last vorns factory reject, glitched out, baseline, pit spawned excuse of a sparkling!"

::Sounds like you Ratchet:: Ironhide sent as they laughed.

The twins were brigged and Prowl made rule _85. __Do not attempt to awaken a human, especially one that is tired from previous battles, by: # R. If Mikeala Banes - Do not disturb. Let Sam Witwicky or Optimus Prime make the attempt. They are more likely to be allowed to continue to function once said femme is awake._

Mikeala and Sam laughed at the prank at lunch, making up to the relief of Bumblebee and the others.

_WL Rule# 11 Just because we understand the Transformers and think they are wicked cool doesn't mean everyone else will. Forget secrecy and national security, they deal with enough without screaming fan girls, conspiracy theorists and the media wanting to prove they exist and why they should return Elvis and Bigfoot. _

_173. Do not assume human command structure is based on skill, logic and dependability. Even the Decepticon system for determining assignments is better than the humans. _

The Autobots intently listed as Optimus finished their latest battle review, signaling for his second in command to close out the meeting. Prowl raised his white armored hand for emphasis. "Before I dismiss you, I have correlated relevant information in regards to assigned personnel."

"Speak English dude!" Skids stated then rocked with his brother's punch.

"Tha' be English!" Mudflap answered, hopping over his kick then subsiding as Arcee targeted them with her weapons.

"Explain please," Optimus said, silently sending Arcee thanks.

Prowl's wing doors were arched behind his head and shoulders in frustration, "I was asked to assist in determining personnel qualifications to assist in Mr. Frank's mental recovery. There were five inspectors at his office that could have been sent here. The first candidate was denied based on security risk evaluation. He volunteers off duty hours with troubled youth and speaks on their behalf in legal matters, directing them to assistance they require."

"He was rejected for being helpful?" Ironhide asked.

"The youth he assists are of dubious morals and our existence is locked under the highest level security. Second choice has a mate and three younglings. He was unavailable for the traveling scheduled requirements due to sports coaching and previous family commitments. Third is active in human arts. Plays piano and harp as well as writes poetry and oil paints. An art exhibit and charity concert corresponded with our inspection dates, ruling out his classification."

"Mr. Franks was creative," Sideswipe snickered.

"I'll say!" Sunstreaker added. "Screamed nine different ways."

"Mr. Franks had no security issues, nor time conflicts, or family commitments. Mr. Galloway also recommended him for a service award, denied last year," Prowl continued.

"So the least normal the personnel are the more likely they are to be sent here?"

"In a relative manner," Prowl half stated, rubbing the back of his black helm with one armored hand.

"Relative as in the more…" Major Will Lennox began.

"Abnormal," Hound started.

"Perverted," Jolt continued.

"Oddball," Skids added.

"Twisted," Mudflap said.

"They are more likely," Prowl tried to resume control of the conversation.

"Probable," Ratchet interrupted.

"Credible," Lydia DeMarco added.

"Expected," Will Lennox said, looking up at the black mech grinning over him.

"Sure fire," Ironhide waved his cannons.

"Assured," Epps continued.

"Guaranteed to be sent here," Optimus finished, his shoulder plates sagging.

*What about humans helpful before?* Bumblebee texted onto the monitors.

"Maggie directs her own team of counter cyber terrorists. Their work in programming enables our crypto field gear for NEST teams." Prowl flashed up her current security ID badge.

"Glen is engaged to be spark mated and directing a reality TV adventure series. In the top ten of the human shows last season. " Clips from his commercials played before the screen darkened.

"Director Keller resigned when his views conflicted with the current administration over domestic policy. He travels the country on a speaking tour and is writing a memoir. " His book signing contact flashed up.

"Banachek?" Will asked.

"He changed to the private sector following the disbanding of Sector Seven and heads a private security agency for visiting dignitaries in Washington, D.C. Contacted but expressed no interest in teaming with military operations."

"Full disclosure is another hurdle," Prowl stated. "The fourth choice is spark mated and active in his community but refused the assignment. The mentioning of our weaponry, size and age is intimidating to the humans. As well as the forty-nine pages of medical and mental health waivers and disclosures that they are required to read and sign."

"How many pages?" Epps blinked.

"Forty-nine to list review of safety procedures and our record in destruction of earth vehicles is a hindrance," the black and white mech curled his lip plates down. "While open combat is prohibited to any inspector, our on base activities are intimidating," he trailed off as those assembled looked sheepish or guilty. The major twins exchanged a look, yellow and red hands waving at each other.

::Change the disclosure but slightly:: Optimus linked into their bond.

::How do you always know?:: Sunstreaker

::Thousands of years of experience with you two and I was a youngling and mischievous once myself:: Optimus

::Like you ever did anything Prime:: Sideswipe

::Give me one proof:: Sunstreaker

::I once bet Ironhide the next femme that I did not know who walked into the command center I would tell how beautiful her optics were:: Optimus

::And?:: Sunstreaker

::A rose colored femme walked in, named Elita and you know the rest:: Optimus sent before closing down the link. 'Her optics are still beautiful,' he thought.

_**Story Arc – "Finding who you are" **_(part four)

_Review: Silverblade is seeing the moon station attack through Prowl's memories to learn what really happened there. _**INTENSE BATTLE SEQUENCES / CHARACTER DEATHS **

The weapon flashes nearly blinded his optics but Prowl was still thinking and recording. 'Megatron is inexperienced. He made the same mistake. Too many mechs in too small a space with only standard weapons. He's learning. Wants the technology in the mainframe.'

The shock trooper in front of him crumbled, even his multi-layering armor slagging under the combined energy blasts. The form tilted, creating a gap. Prowl screamed as the laser sliced into his side, gouging through delicate wiring and system links. Power rerouted to emergency repairs, taking down his shoulder cannon. The other shock trooper fell his direction as a seeker blast wiped away the trooper's face. Pinned in, Prowl could see the Decepticon seeker targeting him.

'No time to avoid,' he processed frantically, raising both arms to cover his spark. The blast slammed him down, medical alerts flashing across his optics. Rolling up on the trooper's downed chassis, he felt the pain in his chest as the lights dimmed. "We're losing. Trapped between them. Weapons down, repair systems unable to compensate. Outbound signals still blocked. Prime?" He sruggled to raise up as blue energon dripped off his white fingers.

Megatron was holding Prime Mechner in his claws, the mech badly injured. Prowl's optics dimmed then focused as power rerouted again under his direct control. "Must not offline. One blast, just one blast."

Megatron snarled, nearly touching the Prime's face, "I take what I want." The matrix of leadership was pulled out from his chest, tossed to Soundwave. His silver blue hands caught it, holding it well away from his square chassis.

Mechner's spark chamber was exposed, its bright blue light pulsing. Megatron reached, fingers sinking into to the light as the Prime's entire body seized. The light flared then crawled up the silver fingers, sinking through the armor.

"No, he's draining the spark," Prowl realized weakly, trying to crawl forward. Nannites repaired the connection, allowing his system to recharge one blast. But only one. His logic center went into overdrive. "Mechner or the Matrix. Mechner is suffering and Megatron's armor is too strong. The matrix cannot be taken. He's a Prime I must help him. I swore an oath to defend all life and Megatron will not stop here. I serve Cybertron and the Primes. The matrix is power of the Allspark and thousands of years of history and knowledge Megatron cannot access. His spark is draining, adding to Megatron's strength. Which do I choose? Primus forgive me." Prowl chose.

A ball of yellow light blasted out from his weapon, shattering the matrix in Soundwave's hands. The mech screamed, falling backwards as half his chest melted causing him to crash into Megatron. Mechner was dropped as the mechs fell entangled to the deck in a smoking heap. His bright red square red helm bounced on the deck before his optics went dark as the chassis sagged onto the energon soaked metal deck.

Megatron struggled to his feet, screaming in rage until the floor rocked as the entire structure shook. "The failsafe," Prowl realized in horror. The autobot warship was firing on the station per its pre programmed settings.

"Decepticons, transfer to deck nine. We must get what we came for! Leave survivors to spread our victory and their defeat," Megatron ordered. Prowl watched the Constructicon blasting bodies stop at the trooper next to his to obey the order. He would survive for a little while longer. The lights dimmed as his repair systems took over.

In the autobot med bay, Prowl closed the connection, drawing himself and Silverblade out of the past and back to their present day. The wrist port connection cables undid as her optics went wide.

Silverblade backed up rapidly. "Prime Mechner? He killed my friends," she whispered.

Prowl nodded, retracting the connection cables into his wrist. "Had you been there, you would have been offlined. Your friends never knew, attending to their consoles. Prime Mechner saw and felt his end, knowing he had failed for the first time, in his last battle." Prowl watched her shudder, falling to her knee plates. Gently, he kneeled and wrapped both arms around her, holding tight and murmuring reassurances as his family had done to him all those vorns ago.

He vented softly, remembering the endless meetings, the comm calls discussing what had happened and how to keep it hidden from the public. 'All that time my logic processor was damaged, my own systems resetting the coding to keep my functioning without recharge or external repair. Wasn't until that senate fool asked his question that the logic glitch activated, temporarily offlining me. Then I had medics and recharge time in plenty. Only it was too late,' he vented, rubbing his white helm before returning to comfort her. "The coding was too damaged, too buried to fix. Now anything too illogical and I temporarily offline in full stasis lock."

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Author's Notes: Yes, Megatron drains sparks of those he offlines to steal their life force. It is canon history but not mentioned that often. Jazz and smaller mechs he rips apart to destroy their spark. Those he truly hates like Optimus he shatters and destroys into pieces. The stolen energy helps power his weapons and why he is so hard to defeat.


	56. Chapter 56 Knowing where you are wanted

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and answers to the trivia questions on my live journal page. Have to keep the readers there awake somehow. Just kidding.

Okay, I borrowed Lydia for this chapter too. She will be leaving and returning home soon but is welcome anytime. And I read a fic, don't remember which one (and could not find again) that Ironhide was a sparkling under Kup's care and bit every wire he could find, shorting out half of Iacon once by chomping on a main conduit in the control room.

Changing the story arc a bit. Going to focus on Soundwave, the cassettes and Wheeljack and their misadventures for a bit to set up for next segments. Yes, I know Bumblebee peeled Ravage apart in ROTF but there is a reason why this one is Ravage9. More explained next chapter. Onward to making choices and changes.

TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR

_WL Rule# 12 Experience, skill and commitment are more important to Transformers than delegated authority or assigned titles. Bumblebee is their youngest and best lead scout. Older or bigger does not always mean better but never tell Ironhide, Chromia, Optimus, Elita and Ultra Magnus that._

_174. Do not become discouraged as humans on the same team, department or even in the same families do not progress. In the midst of crisis, they can unite as a whole and achieve incredible things._

"Are you two fighting?" Major Will Lennox asked, leaning over the metal communications platform railing. Lydia Demarco and Senior Budget Analyst Marcus Linkletter were snarling at each other over budget cuts as they entered the main hangar.

"If we were, he'd be on the ground bleeding," she jerked a thumb his direction.

"Not likely," he snapped back, tugging his jacket down over his ample belly. A former high school football player, he bragged about the touchdown scores of his youth while ignoring his shape now resembled a football itself. His age lines and long silver hair contrasted with his brown pants suit but matched the dour look he perpetually wore. "What's next missy? Calling your pet dinosaur? I'm not afraid like the man I replaced."

"Grimlock is not a pet nor a dinosaur but a sentient autonomous mech capable of recognizing threats and problems on his own. Lucky for you, he's on a mission with several others. I'm the one you should worry about," she smiled, tipping her sunglasses down to reveal her glowing artificial eye.

"I worry about numbers and charts," he said, ignoring her to reach for the last donut on the snack plate. Lydia grabbed a regular soda pop can and watched with amusement as half the bots there started to yell at her for it.

"Relax, unless one of you report me, one can of soda is not a problem. I'm under medical orders to eat healthier not suffer," she remarked, opening it.

"Where's doc?" Lennox asked, realizing he wasn't among the Autobot command officers.

She snorted very unladylike. "Don't ever call him that in his hearing. Ratchet is repairing his own alt trans scan system. Victim of a prank." The soda can was drained then crushed and thrown into the recycling bin.

"What happened?" Optimus regal baritone rumbled through the hangar. Any prank affecting the medic affected their combat readiness and Ratchet was not kind or forgiving. He and Ultra Magnus were the only mechs currently on base capable of handling him enraged and neither would be welcome in med bay following any attempt to "help" Ratchet.

Lydia winked at Optimus before facing the others. "Someone turned his amour all deep green then uploaded a transform sequence for his extremities. The sequence that normally shifts his hands and feet into dozens of medical tools? They changed his metal digits to include webbing and soft pads on each tip."

"A green spider? That be wrong," Mudflap said.

"No," she laughed. "A frog! He stumbled into the hallway, feet sticking to the floor and the twins were there. Swore by Primus they were not the ones this time. Then Sideswipe joked about a kiss from a human turning him into prince charming. Ratchet sub spaced _all_ his wrenches and you can guess the rest."

"Ouch," Optimus winced then got a gleam in his optics. "Do you have a visual of him?"

"Do I have the word 'stupid' written on me anywhere?" She asked incredulously. "Just because I'm human, mostly human that is, doesn't mean he won't find a way to weld me to one of the twins for documenting that. They know never to touch me but Ratchet does what he wants."

"I thought he liked you, was willing to work with you on the budgets," Sergeant Epps verbally jumped in, exchanging a look with Lennox at her choice of wording.

Lydia crossed her arms over her chest. "If you think for one astro second that learning to work with me and other humans has altered any aspect of his personality core, then you really don't know the mech at all."

"You mean he's as mean with you as he is with us?" Mudflap asked in muted horror.

"Of course," Lydia added with a sly smile. "The only difference between the way he treats you and the way he treats me is that I can get away with throwing the wrench back. And I could use a wrench about now," she pointedly stared at Linkletter.

Ironhide tried triggering his battle mask to hide his smirk then remembered. 'Never should have told Chromia my secrets. Or dared her to make me bite her. Conniving femme waited until I was in recharge then removed my mask pieces. Kicked me onto the floor and I wake up to her exposing her most sensitive shoulder joint wiring before my optics.' He clicked his lip plates together in remembrance. 'Always had a weakness for thermoplasik insulated titanium. Went through fourteen jaw repair welds as a sparkling from overcharges but Chromia's shoulder, mmmmm.'

::Are you all right? Your expression is…peculiar:: Bumblebee sent, blue optics peering up at his mentor and guardian as he approached.

::Thinking of Chromia. Missing her:: Ironhide covered, controlling his facial plates. He folded his black armored arms across his chest plates, ignoring the human conversations getting louder behind them.

::Her NEST team is back by sunset. When will it be safe to approach Ratchet?:: Bumblebee

"Why? You usually run from him," he focused on the youngling. The little yellow mech looked sheepish, folding his hands together while looking down at his feet pads. His movements were slow and controlled, his yellow wings doors nearly flat against his back.

::Combat practice close quarters with Silverblade, Hound and Jazz. Tried one of your advanced throwing techniques on Silverblade. Didn't work, she knew how to lock down and stabilize:: Bumblebee

"Good for her. And you know better than to wrestle a bigger bot with advanced techniques. Ain't I taught you enough fast and low level attacks?" Ironhide teased, patting his head plates. The younger mech pulled back, moving oddly sideways, more sliding than stepping.

::For combat, yes. And every bot is bigger than me:: Bumblebee

"Bigger but not better. You pull a leg cable straining?" He guessed.

::Heard a crack in my back welds. I stopped fighting immediately and came here looking for Ratchet. He was scheduled to attend the budget meeting. Nannites are signaling repair failure and the medical scanner for that area stopped when I twisted wrong:: Bumblebee admitted quietly.

"How bad does it hurt?" Ironhide immediately tried getting a good scan but the protective plating around the little mech's energon filters interfered. The weapons mech's optics targeted the area perfectly without being able to discern the extent of the damage. Energy thermal imaging showed units above and below the area dark and inoperative.

::No pain. Sensors are offline, probably a loose connection. It can wait:: Bumblebee sent, moving back and turned, colliding with Optimus' blue legs.

"Easy there," Optimus instructed as he kneeled down on one leg, optics spinning as he gently placed silver armored hands on each side of Bumblebee's chassis.

::You told on me!:: Bumblebee

"Frag yes! Optimus has advanced optics like Ratchet," Ironhide said.

::I know that! Don't want him upset:: Bumblebee sent, realizing every human and bot were watching them. His systems heated slightly in embarrassment.

"Long beam crack on the center connect and the neuro cabling is nearly severed," Optimus diagnosed. "Ratchet confirms he is available. Yes, I can multi task. No transforming, the injury is too unstable. Let me carry you."

:I am not a sparkling. I can walk and have proved myself in battle:: Bumblebee sent to Optimus only.

::I know. You have made me proud. I am tired of holding weapons and reports instead of the very spark my hopes and prayers gave form to:: Optimus

Bumblebee felt his optics mist over before nodding and being lifted up and against Optimus chest. No bot teased or made a comment as they left the hangar and crossed the tarmac. Bumblebee rested on Optimus' shoulder plating, feeling the blazing of his spark and sheer intense power of his mech creator's essence in the form that held him. The faintest trace of concern and pure love crossed between their spark bonds.

::I missed this too:: Bumblebee

_183. When a human asks "is there anything you else you need and want" do not answer: _

_a. More mud puddles to play in _*Hound

_b. Starscream's spark on a plate for breakfast _*Brawn

_c .The music to never end _*Jazz

_d. Peace, love and my favorite show to be renewed for another season. _*Arcee

_e. . _*Blurr

_f. The code key sequence to unlock our weapons when in the brig _*Sunstreaker and Sideswipe

_g. Energon, Chromia and about five joors left alone together. _*Ironhide

_h. Sam and Mikeala to be in less danger *_Bumblebee

_i. No need for a brig and no distractions to finish my reports _*Prowl

_j. A way to save every spark _*Ratchet

_k. We beat up Devastator in Egypt and took his face, what else we need? _Skids and Mudflap

_l. The femmes to be less dangerous to us mechs _*Ultra Magnus

_m. Never to be called sparkie, sparkster, bad hair maker, or static master again _*Jolt

_n. A door to my quarters and office that no one can open or tamper with _*Optimus Prime

_o. To hear Ratchet compliment me on my medical repairs _*Red Alert

_p. A bigger spark to power bigger weapons _*Cliffjumper

_q. To slagging be taken serious _*Wheelie

_r. A mech to love me for me _*Silverblade

_s. A chance to show what I can do (without messing it up) _*Hot Rod

_t. More fight against the seekers where they don't always retreat before us Aerialbots _*Air Raid

_u. To be noticed by a femme _*Mirage

_v. Less restrictions on experimenting on humans and other life forms _*Perceptor

w. _Remember faster and more often to use my force field_ *Trailbreaker

x._ This war to be over, I have a mech to get busy with. _*Elita

y. _A field assignment that is more than being a cargo plane_ *Silverbolt

z. _Me stomp_ _Decepticons and be a grandpa bot_ *Grimlock

aa._ Respect for my discoveries and inventions _*Wheeljack

_**Story Arc – "Knowing where you are wanted" – Wheeljack (**__part 1)_

"Looks cute, Annabelle will want one, after mom clears it first," Major Lennox sighed, accustomed to Cybertronian technology going to his daughter. Wheeljack held the two golden cube shapes, as they waited in the main hangar.

"How are you and the misses doing?" Ironhide asked.

"Better. I am allowed back in bedroom. The me and her part is not there yet," Lennox admitted. "Do you keep secrets from Chromia?"

"Not on your spark. Facing her after is fatal. Telling her before is repairable. The rest," the warrior mech shrugged. "Is dealt with."

"And if she is not in a dealing mood?" Master Sergeant Epps asked.

"Then the use of a weapon becomes involved," he stated, patting his left cannon.

"Right. Wheeljack, what are those?" Epps quickly switched the conversation topic.

Wheeljack's facemask hid his true expression but his sidebars flashed bright blue and green for mischief and contentment, "A little present for the twins. Their idea actually."

"Is it dangerous? It's not going to explode or anything?"

"It is non-combative design. Not everything I make goes wrong first time or two." His vocal tone reflected his hurt feelings. "My designs are incorporated into three fourths of the weapons here as well as system upgrades, processor advances and optics relays."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker roared in, transforming out of their Corvette alt forms and posing in their bi pedal modes. Wheeljack activated both cubes, releasing them onto the floor. All the mechs watched as they changed, the familiar transform sound occurring. Multi directional wheels appeared on all four lower corners as the center rotated up into a mini face with only a round speaker for a mouth. The gold color changed to white feet and face, black body like a baby panda.

"Pet peeves," Wheeljack chuckled as the little shapes rolled in circles towards the twins.

"Rule – no speeding on base. Rule – do not disregard safety requirements of humans in and around our areas," the first pet peeve stated in a voice matching Prowl's. The second followed in a deeper baritone suspiciously like their boss bot.

"That's means you slackers. Rules apply to all twins. And no excuses this time fuzz balls."

Both twins narrowed their optics as the little peeves circled them. The assembled humans and mechs laughed. Sideswipe dropped a sword out of subspace, swinging it directly at the closest peeve only to blink as it zipped incredibly fast sideways. Sunstreaker popped up a wrist blaster, targeting his peeve.

"I wouldn't do that," Wheeljack warned, his bars flashing to orange.

"I'm not you," the yellow twin stated then fired.

"Ow!" Sideswipe yelped as the ricochet bolt hit his leg. The little peeve's shape shimmered with its enforcement shield before returning to quoting rules.

"Rule – no firing weapons in non combat situations. Rule – No advanced technology in grasp of the humans. Rule – No injuring a fellow Autobot in a prank or by stupidity," the first black and white peeve rolled around them in a wider circle.

"Use your processors thick chips! Weapons fire is reckless and not a good idea, hello!" The second peeve spun in place.

Over the laughter, Wheeljack explained. "I coded them with all your weapons and combat moves." Sideswipe stomped at the little drone, impacting with the floor and not it's fast moving shape. "They know your speed, tactics and range," Sunstreaker tossed a shock grenade, watching it bounce up and over as the cube flattened itself. Boom! The recycling basket exploded, burnt paper shreds everywhere as the humans scrambled for cover. "Nothing you do can touch them," he finished.

"How could they be that good?" Sideswipe snarled, checking his sword for dents from hitting the concrete floor and not the moving drone.

"I built and designed your weapons and programs. Gave them the same data," Wheeljack said then went wide eyed as both twins targeted him.

"Stand down," Optimus ordered, walking in the main door. "Wheeljack, recall the drones." He watched his mechs obey. "Pranks are fine but not when destructive. The floor is damaged and the humans hiding."

"What about my leg? Paint is scratched!" Sideswipe whined.

Two hours later, Wheeljack rested by Annabelle's castle in his alt mode, the crashing of the waves unable to calm his processor. "I am not a-for-air processing, blow it up, cracked chip inventor. The others have no right to think of me that way. Sure, some projects explode but rare and that is how I discover even more. Med bay is an excellent place to retool and design. And Optimus did not have to make me shut down the drones. They were fun. Slaggin twins. Prank us, cause damage and I have to store my drones. Not fair." Idly, he tapped into the mainframe, reviewing upcoming assignments for project ideas. His alt mode reflected the sunset in its high white shine without pulling in the heat.

"Oh, what's the use? I could design a hundred perfect projects and they would never notice. Saved their afts enough times. Wheeljack fix this link, tweak that power coupling, and design me this next level of tech. What would they do without me?" his mood suddenly brightened as he replayed his own words. "What would they do?" he linked back into the mainframe, selecting a far-reaching mission. "Oregon Coast. Confirm or clear the surveillance systems out there." His optics dimmed as he pulled the details on the sea detection system. "Not bad, not very advanced either."

That night Optimus faced his only civilian team member with feelings of disbelief. "You want the Oregon assignment? Basic repair and maintenance of human floating water buoys? It was meant for NEST, Supporter Humans to handle."

"I'm qualified," he said quietly. Optimus waited for the rest of the explanation, long used to him running on for breems at end. The scientist waited, his bars a light grey with the barest trace of green and blue.

"Anything else?" He finally prompted. Wheeljack shook his head a negative. "Then you have my leave to go. Stay in contact." Within twenty-four hours, Wheeljack had arrived at the distant location, met the base commander and his second in command then rolled out to the first response site. Transforming, he never noticed the colored metal shape flying high overhead. The Decepticon Laserbeak spotted him instantly as he knelt by the square receiver station unit.

"Primitive radio signal relays. Tsunami comes in, the buoy rises, sending a signal here to be forwarded to the base to issue a warning. Time consuming," the inventor altered the first two metal fingers on his right hand into tools, removing the outer casing. "Wiring ends are gold to prevent corrosion. Inventive but expensive. A good thermal coating would work. Have to forward the chemical formula for waterproofing." Intent on designing improvements while working, he never noticed the two mini mech shapes approaching from the edges. A third dark shape slunk through the bent bushes, silent on its paws.

::In position:: Ravage9

::Weapon ready:: Rumble

::He is holding still. What are you two waiting for?:: Laserbeak

::This disabler surge breaker rod is heavy:: Rumble grumbled back, his twin cassette barely able to support the weight between them. They fired, the charge zipping straight out. Wheeljack heard the buzz, focusing on the line he was wiring when the force slammed him face first into the control box. The green and red armor on his back smoked as he slid down. His optics dimmed out, gold circles on green boards fading into blackness.

Blue optics powered on, focusing on black volcanic rock mixed with steel colored metal plating. "Where am I?" he wheezed, systems rebooting. "Is this med bay? No, what? Why?"

"We're Santa's elves and this is the North Pole," a higher pitched mechanical voice out of range stated. "We need you to fix broken toys."

"I've lost it," Wheeljack fuzzily processed, realizing he was lying on his back, hands and feet pads bound. "Too many battle hits and not enough energon."

CLANG!

Metal hitting metal then Cybertronian cursing. "Smart aft!" a deeper voice growled. A familiar red and blue mini Decepticon moved into his optic range. Laserbeak landed on a rock cropping above him as Ravage slunk out of the shadows, growling.

"Rumble," Wheeljack identified.

"We captured you Autobot. This is Soundwave's base of operations. Do not resist."

"Why did you bring me here?" He asked, reading medical alerts. _Shoulder canon – missing. Nannites self repair – active and functioning. 45% complete on armor plating. Processors fully functional. Distress signal – offline. Review ongoing. _

"We need repair," Rumble said, ignoring the way the other cassette warriors glared at him. "My left arm won't transform. Soundwave don't know why and I ain't getting left behind again. Megatron scraps any mech not in fighting condition."

"For their parts?" He guessed.

"Nah, target practice. Tells you to run then boom! Blasts with that mega cannon of his." The mechs surrounding him all shuddered.

"Isn't that overkill?" His side bars flashed colors.

"Kill or offlining has the same end effect. No more bot." Rumble answered, tapping his chest.

Wheeljack suddenly vented hard as his system reports continued. _Time log update – 30 joors aka two and a half days. Prime link – active on standby. Autobot comm line – no messages. Wheeljack designated in box – no messages. Alert system – no messages. _

Rumble moved forward, sliding out a mini energon knife as the otehr mechs moved into ready status. "Promise not to attack or try to leave and we will release you."

He nodded, numb with shock. His processors turned rapidly internally. 'I've been out 30 joors and no one tried to contact me? I go missing and nothing? Not even a spam file?' His bonds were sliced, allowing him to visually check his armor. The front was intact and he felt a dent on his back. The shoulder cannon brace was on his shoulder and nothing above it.

"Stay with us, we'll care for you. You help as you choose," Rumble said.

"Really?"

"Yah, even Soundwave needs repair and we won't make you fight your old Autobot friends or nothing." The mechs all nodded.

"They are not my friends. All they did was criticize my work and make fun of my discoveries. I joined as a civilian scientist, not a warrior. That was our agreement but they treat me as lesser mech," he admitted, his sidebars displaying a rainbow of colors for his changing emotions. He held his face in his armored hands, not sure what to do next. 'Should I escape, find a way to call for help? They will never let me live this down, getting captured.' A gently nuzzling on his hip plate had him looking down. Ravage was rubbing his metal muzzle against his metal. He whined, placing one metal paw on the scientist's leg.

::Stay with us. Jaw damaged. Need repair or offlined:: Ravage9

"Why are your Ravage9?"

"Ravage1 offlined on the ship from Cybertron. Blown out the airlock. Ravage 2 – 5 needed repairs and Megatron blasted them. Ravage6 blew his processors biting Jolt vorns ago on an asteroid station. Ravage7 Devastator stepped on by accident. Ravage8 Bumblebee shredded in Egypt. Ravage9 here is the current model. Different chassis, same personality file each time. We all have emergency backups via Soundwave. Existence ain't easy for 'Cons our size. No other mech cares and 'Cons pick leaders by most powerful and we are low on the energon chain. Soundwave protects us."

Wheeljack stared at each of them, reading the intentness of their desire for the company of another mech and how hard their existence was. "Why not?" he shrugged, disconnecting the Autobot link that bound him to Optimus as Prime. The internal comm links were disabled followed by his unique signal tracker. 'Unless they get a direct energy signature read, there is no way to find or recognize me by sensors alone. Obviously they never cared enough to contact me.'

He focused outward, transforming his right hand into basic repair tools, all smaller tipped. "Who's first?" he chirped.

_To be continued…_


	57. Chapter 57 Knowing where wanted pt 2

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and the e-mails. Fan fic is updating their site and one change was they removed run on sentences as in no spaces. In an early chapter, Annabelle ate a lot of sugar and was hyper and Blurr has appeared here and there. All their lines are GONE! Wiped out, as in a blank spot now. And no warning, I found it by accident as did other writers. One more thing to go back and fix.

The two humanoid looking cassettes from the G1 are Rumble and Frenzy. However, if I use Frenzy readers will think the crazy silver tape player in the first movie and that is not the same mech is here. Therefore, that is why I refer to a second cassette without using a name. Sea grass is very tall, spindly and shallow rooted in sandy soil not the typical grass in yards.

I am NOT military so if I get facts wrong don't yell at me. I am trying to research and be accurate. A major wind storm is inbound here and if the power goes, no way to post. I am working on the next chapters even if I have to do it by paper and flashlight. Story arc is practically is its own fic by length and is getting longer. Hope you are enjoying it, even if it more serious and not just simple humor. Onward to a change of pace.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR

_183. Do not become confused, obsessed or bewildered by the human concepts of genders and sexuality. It is hidden and displayed, joked about and taken seriously, counseled over and not mentioned in mixed company. It is the most confusing aspect of their race but we know what gender we are, even if they don't._

Prowl continued reciting the last rule addition then bowed towards Ratchet. "Per Prime's orders we continue to research problems with human liaisons and delegates being assigned here. We discovered another problem area." The humans, including Sam Mikeala sighed, hoping the long meeting was almost done. They were gathered across the communications platform on chairs to be on the same general height with their Autobot friends. Metal, stiff and foldable the chairs were not the most comfortable but the best way to accomodate all of them in the narrow space.

"Specifically our sexuality," the medic said, ignoring the snickers and mech optic rolls. "The lack of external Transformer characteristics matching human ideas of gender confused them. The original report filed by government officials included the standard human specifics. Sector Seven tweaked it, adding 'neither' and 'both' and 'undetermined' alongside the 'female' and 'male' check boxes.

"Sector Seven could write?" Mikeala joked.

"Wrote the book on how to mess up alien contacts," Sam commented dryly then joined in the groans and chuckles.

Bumblebee played a clip of Agent Simmons explaining he couldn't talk to the aliens except to tell them he couldn't talk to them. "Get out of the car!" Optimus' voice growled in the recording.

"Ahem, I was saying," Ratchet interrupted. "The last scientists figured Megatron was mech but an early official marked the female box."

"They thought Megatron was a femme?" Ultra Magnus repeated. The red and blue mech blinked in confusion, glancing down at Arcee, Chromia and Elita standing by him. "Wasn't it obvious?"

"They mistook his transform program and alt mode rotational parts for reproductive sequences according to their notes. The Allspark energy created only male Decepticon drones as Megatron was the last to activate it before we sent it off Cybertron through the worm hole," Ratchet glared openly at the Prime.

Optimus winced, rubbing the back of his blue helm with one armored silver hand. "I was hesitant to release its energy and create a possible sparkling as a test. The drones were based on earth's limited technology and we were on Cybertron back then. It would have been unfair to the new life and I did not know Megatron had activated the cube. We only had a suspicion. All life is precious and creating to destroy for curiosity is not our way."

"Irregardless, they assumed the cube and Megatron were females. Once NEST was formed, we explained it in detail," Ratchet commented.

"We? No you explained and demonstrated with holograms to their shock and horror," Chromia teased, snickering behind one dark blue armored hand. "I thought it was pretty good."

"The representative was dumfounded?" Sergeant Epps guessed.

"He was just dumb," Ratchet affirmed. "He listed me as female because of my medical transform sequences. Worse, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker as each gender and as lovers."

"You didn't say what I think you did?" Sunstreaker asked, blue optics wide in horror against his yellow plating.

"We're twins. Not…. not…. not… not…. not…. not…" Every human and bot turned to look as his brother hit him hard across his red helm. "Not that! We are fragging twins! A human can't change our existence when they want too. That's perverted! We share a bond but not… not… not…. not…"

CLANG!

"Stop that. You're scaring the humans 'Sides," Sunstreaker warned, peering into his brother's wildly spinning optics.

"Only the humans?" Ironhide quipped, looking over his black shoulder plate at the four mechs suddenly standing directly behind him and not by Sideswipe where they had been.

"We will correct the mistakes through the proper channels. Until tonight, dismissed," Optimus nodded towards Major Lennox and Sergeant Epps.

::We could play on it. Next dignitary visit, change all the holograms to be opposite. Arcee and Chromia to mech and ours to femmes:: Sunstreaker

::NO! Enough is enough. I am a mech and only a mech:: Sideswipe sent, the intensity ringing in his brother's receiver before storming off.

::Where are you going?:: Sunstreaker

::To find Firestar:: Sideswipe

::Why? Need a workout?:: Sunstreaker asked, subspacing a sword into his right hand with a shimmer in his optics.

::Not the way you're thinking:: Sunstreaker retorted, checking his image in the glass windows.

_188. When a human asks, "Do you know who my father is?" It is an expression referring to perceived superiority of the asker based on their parental unit, not a legitimate inquiry into a familial relationship in any way, shape or form. Do not answer: _

_a. What? Your mother didn't tell you? Then I will not either. _

_b. One ugly aft human apparently. _*Sunstreaker

_c. No, I'm guessing he probably doesn't want to know who you are either. _*Sideswipe

d. _Not the Allspark nor any of us Transformers if you look like that._

_e. Handwriting that bad on the birth certificate? _

_f. I know who my mech creator was. Why would I care about yours squishy?_

_g. Need to find him to write you an excuse note? _

_h. No, though you're the best case for abandonment I've seen lately._

_i. According to evolution theory, a primordial ooze which is what you will be if you say one more word fleshling! _*Ironhide

_WL Rule# 13 We have been fighting for thousands of years with ever increasing rules and official procedures. To the Transformers, survival and their friends are all that matter. Everything revolves around that, not following procedures. They follow our rules when they want for our sakes, not because they have to obey or are under our control. Never forget that. _

_176. Do not obey human protocols, rules or commands when it endangers us or them. We hold more fire power, speed and strength than any rule they write. But be ready to answer to Autobot command and Prime afterwards. He is our final determining factor of if it was right or wrong. _

In the main Autobot hangar on Diego Garcia, Optimus suddenly straightened his massive blue and red frame, optics snapping over to the west.

"Prime? What is it?" Ironhide asked, his sensors detecting nothing to pull his old friend into full alertness. The budget report they had been earnestly reviewing with the other Autobots was suddenly ignored.

"I've lost my Prime connection to Wheeljack. The combat link to all my team."

"Probably stasis locked on the floor, half the net system crashed," Sunstreaker snorted.

"Only half?" Sideswipe joked, his red arms measuring a greater size.

"Still, the signal is gone," Optimus muttered, approaching the three story rolling platform. "Coast Guard Yaquina command, voiceover only, no image," he stated to the head communications officer, letting the humans know he would obey their protocols.

::Waste of time if you ask me:: Ironhide

::Confirming Wheeljack's status?:: Optimus asked, his optics narrowing.

::No! Not being able to be seen when our mech inventor is there walking around in bi pedal mode, Twenty foot plus white mech with red and green stripes and they can't see our faces?:: Ironhide

::Human rules rarely make sense:: Prowl sent then quieted when the screen displayed the Coast Guard logo.

"Command, this is Optimus Prime. I need verification of status of one of my team please."

A grey haired human male officer of firm build saluted and answered immediately, maps and charts displayed everywhere in his command room. "Optimus Prime, this is base commander Leroy Jefferson. We are widening the search area as we speak. Still no sign of your mech but weather here has been terrible and interfered."

"No sign? Search?" he repeated carefully, the first real twinges of worry beginning to form in his processors as his team signal continued transmitting without a response.

"You are calling about Wheeljack right? Attacked by unknown forces two days ago before going missing in action?"

"Two days?" "Missing?" "Attacked!" Various Autobot vocals sounded throughout the hangar.

"I notified your designated contact the moment Wheeljack missed his first check in to relay to the Pentagon to relay to your command to you as we are different branches of service. I dispatched a team for investigating and to assist with repairs. They found his shoulder cannon, smashed and burnt and signs of a struggle. I began an immediate search. Left nine messages on the recorded number. Glad to reach you in person. We are doing everything humanly possible to find him. Stand by," he gestured to hold while he retrieved the latest charts.

Optimus optics dimmed as he searched the base's digital message system. "Found the designated message box. 119 messages." A bare flicker of blue light and he nodded. "Report confirmed. Nine distinct messages regarding Wheeljack and his disappearance all left recently. Rest irrelevant regarding base matters and four wrong numbers."

"You reviewed them all that fast?" Lennox asked.

"They were only digital messages stored in a binary way," Optimus blandly stated before his expression hardened. "I'm taking a team there and investigating myself."

"What if it's a Decepticon trap?" Lennox asked, hand on his gun holster.

"They will get their wish. I will spring it and they will learn I am no glitch mouse," He growled, his swords sliding out into his hands.

Ironhide's lip plates formed a smirk. "Makes you feel almost sorry for the Decepticons don't it?"

_**Story Arc – "Knowing where you are wanted"(**__part 2)_

**US Coast Guard Station, Yaquina Bay, Oregon**

The three mechs faced the human command officers in the open courtyard, ignoring their hesitation in approaching. "Prime," Ratchet faced away from Ironhide and Optimus but his tone had their instant attention. He turned, the wreckage of a silver shoulder cannon in his hands. "It's his." He ran a metal hand down the warped length to the slagged end. "I helped retool this brace shortly after his arrival on Earth. Complained it was too tight, didn't spin as he wanted in this gravity."

Neither bot said anything. They had fought alongside and loss countless friends and fellow Autobots in the thousands of years their civil war had raged. No amount of words, even of encouragement covered that pain or remembrance nor eased the unknown questions lingering now. The wind whistled around the lighthouse before soaring around the mechs and over the building roofs. The distant crashing ocean waves sound barely intruded on their conversation.

"I hate to raise this," the human second in command began, craning his neck to look up at the aliens. "Any chance he took his own way out?"

"Meaning?" Ironhide asked, not understanding the question. His cannons rolled once startling the men to retreat backwards a short distance. The man continued from there.

"He was unhappy. Rarely said two words in answer until we asked about his lab back on your world before the war, he was excited," the human snapped his fingers. "Then total personality change when talking about earth. Sidebars went gray. Muttered about a lack of appreciation for his work. Personnel file stated he was an energetic, go invent happy talker type not moody. Any chance he could have…"

"None!" Ratchet snapped angrily, grip tightening on the damaged weapon. "Autobots do not self destroy like humans. That is not our way." The humans retreated further back.

::It has happened:: Optimus sent over the Autobot comm link, his optics intense in their focus.

::For great distress like loss of a spark mate or Jetfire to help you save an entire world. Not a civilian scientist who is feeling underappreciated. I am his best friend remember?:: the medic snorted. ::I have spent time rebuilding every part of him, listening to him talk every breem of those repairs. I would have known if he intended that vorns ago or had so much as a single errant coding line in his self-preservation module. No, he is missing:: Ratchet

::Then why over thirty joors without contact? Maybe he doesn't want to be found?:: Ironhide

::Prime's link failed less than a joor ago. It is the strongest internal link and designed to fail last. If he wanted to hide, he would have disconnected that first. Wheeljack is either captured, offline or needing help and unable to signal further. And when we find him you will never mention this thick chipped theory again:: Ratchet glared at them both before turning and stalking out towards the main gates.

**Signal Bluff, Oregon Coast – 20 minutes later**

They transformed, weapons subspacing and charging at the same time. "Careful now," Optimus cautioned, moving into his command mode as Prime.

"Decepticons better be careful. I'm in a spark blasting mood," Ironhide said, cannons rolling fast and glowing.

"When are you not?" Ratchet said, his optics in full sensor spin even as his arm blaster rotated into place.

Prime moved ahead, smaller strides as he tried to lock in on the location of the lost signal. "Confirmed. Next rise is the tracking power box and last estimated location of Wheeljack." His height allowed him to see before the others. The sea grass was torn up with chunks of the sandy soil missing, the evidence of a fight clearly visible.

"Energy signatures are Decepticon but faint. Tracks indicate cassette warriors," Ironhide said, running a hand sensor above the ground. "No trace of Soundwave or other Decepticons."

"That you can detect," Ratchet commented. "Tracks move that direction, into the sand dunes."

Ironhide snarled, "Winter storms erased those traces and that fragging sneaky 'Con Soundwave can disappear in front of your sensors. Where are you 'Jack?"

**Soundwave Base – Sea Cliffs by Florence, Oregon**

"How did you get me here?" Wheeljack asked, unscrewing the hinge fastening on Ravage9.

"We carried you most of the way then Soundwave met us," Rumble answered, then turned away wincing as he laid the bottom half of Ravage's jaw on the table next to his top jaw.

"As I expected," Wheeljack mumbled, "hinge gear is misaligned. Full cog off. Easy fix. Remove a fractional layer, retool and weld into place then align. All of you? Must have been slow going. And you did remember to unpower my shoulder lance before removing its connections?"

Five sets of red optics suddenly found the floor or ceiling very interesting. The scientist vented softly. "Not the first time I have to replace an overloaded power cell."

::Replace cannon actually:: Ravage9

"You lost it?"

::I lose nothing:: Laserbeak

"Soundwave threw it into the Pacific ocean?" Wheeljack guessed next.

::No:: Ravage9

Rumble stepped forward, one hand on his hip plate with the other outstretched. "We had trouble figuring out how to remove it. Laserbeak cut it or tried but his optic controls are out. The beam flared some, a bit, quite a bit, okay a lot. But hey, we got it off!" He stated, gesturing widely.

::Needed to brace under shoulder plates and weight pulled that side to ground:: Ravage9

Rumble winced, his memory processor replaying the triumphant capture.

"We got him! We got him!" he cheered. Ravage growled his approval as Laserbeak screamed into a landing.

::Soundwave inbound. Meet with prisoner:: Soundwave

"Right away boss," Rumble answered the comm signal then looked again at the larger white mech, face down over the flattened signal box. "Maybe not right way. We got to flip him first."

::How?:: Ravage9

"My transform isn't a giant spatula," the other cassette snapped. Struggling and swearing, they managed to get him on his back, his mass creating an indent in the sandy soil. "Okay, go under and lift. Carry him."

"Why not drag?"

"Through the trees and over the sand dunes? Think green and red striped white anchor aft head!" Rumble roughly pushed him frontward. The mechs each wriggled under his body, lifting parts as they scuffed and tore the sea grass on the bluff. His chassis immediately tilted to the left with the weight of his shoulder cannon. Without power, it rotated freely, swinging around and digging in.

"Laserbeak, get that thing off!" A strained unseen voice gasped out.

::Firing:: Laserbeak sent then winged to gain balance. ::It is off. Really off::

"Smells like you toasted it! I said remove it not barbecue it!" his voice could be heard yelling from underneath.

"That's it! What mech offlined and allowed you to take over? Huh?" the other cassette yelled, sliding out under the middle. "I can lead!"

"Oh yah? Lead this!" they fought and rolled, uprooting the shallow sea grass in areas, throwing up clumps.

::Seventy-five credits says Rumble wins:: Laserbeak

::One hundred credits Soundwave calls and wants an update when we miss the deadline. I'm telling him it's their fault and why:: Ravage9 retorted, folding his paws one over the other and lowering his muzzle onto them.

Both mini mechs stopped fighting at that comment. "Settle this later, we need to move." They were indeed late meeting Soundwave.

"Cassettes overdue. Probability of Autobot attack low. Probability of Decepticon attack low. Human attack not calculable. Illogical race." A distant signal echoed back, confirming all his mechs were functional and approaching. His red optics went wide as the moving shape traveled into sight around the sand dune. Wheeljack, on his back, was floating above the sand.

"Not possible. Levitation not Autobot ability," the large blue mech kneeled then bent over, turning his head sideways to see the feet, paws and claws between the armor and the ground. He chuckled softly at the sight. Rising, he strode forward.

"Assistance required," Soundwave stated in his usual monotone before throwing the body over his shoulder plates.

In the lab, Wheeljack snapped the gear back on, the noise returning Rumble's focus to Ravage's repairs. "Soundwave carried you to the base entrance. Then left. He comes and goes as he wants."

"Base huh? Two rooms and one lab is a base?" Wheeljack asked, paring a fractional edge off the gear cogs.

"What you got? Humans running around and sticking you in some striped off parking area?"

"Point," he acknowledged.

In the outer chamber, Soundwave returned and stopped, surprised it was empty. "Instructions clear. Attend Autobot outer room only. Do not activate." His optics narrowed in on broken pieces from the cassettes, his spark fluttering with fear.

::REPORT!:: Soundwave

::Retune your volume down boss:: Rumble

::Being repaired:: Ravage9

::Watching repairs and why did you yell? We can always hear you:: Laserbeak

The door into the lab opened, Soundwave approaching slowly, detecting no weapons, traps or unusual responses in his cassettes.

"Why repair?" He confronted.

"For now, I'm back to being a neutral. I am a scientist and inventor and joined as a civilian. I swore the Autobot oath but never had formal military training. My shoulder cannon is my main weapon and that was required by the others." He turned only his head to answer, the side bars flashing orange and yellow. The metal tools on his fingers continued to reshape Ravage's jaw gear.

"No transform or subspace setting."

"Precisely," the mech answered. "For my protection in battle or not, I wanted it removable on my terms. Moreover, works long range. I prefer a lab to the battlefield. My hands are needed for creating and discovering, not ripping out sparks."

"What clan?"

Wheeljack froze, his hands in the process of attaching the first jaw piece back on. "My clan? Not important. Small clan, unique."

Soundwave considered his response. "What clan?"

_To be continued…_


	58. Chapter 58 Knowing where wanted pt 3

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and e-mails. I now have seven cats, rescue kitties and can totally sympathize with Rule 186. Last two kittens were found abandoned in rural areas, half starved and pitiful little guys. Now they are spoiled rotten and have more toys than some kids.

For Rule 190, A 2009 Ferrari 599 GTB Fiorano Coupe is nice and starts at 300,000 dollars. Onward to unexpected surprises and dealing with them.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

In his security office, Prowl released the datapad onto his desktop, his entire black and white protoform shaking with laughter as he struggled to remain professional. "Ironhide babysat Simone? How in Cybertron's name did that happen?" he chuckled, reviewing Prime's report on the situation. He filed it away, correcting one spelling then added a note banning all felis catus from Autobot personal quarters.

_WL Rule# 14 The Autobots can research any and all information on our behaviors, likes and actions from the internet but information does not mean they understand what we are doing. Never assume they know what to do based on the why behind a situation. _

_186. Do not agree to assist in human customs unless you know fully what you are agreeing to. Wars have been started over slight misunderstandings and the femmes of the human race are protective of their children and pets. _

Ironhide exited the target range, his left cannon red-hot and jammed in place. "Time to see Ratchet. Better not take too long. Last time was a full joor repairing my baby." His optics narrowed as Mudflap and Skids, both in their car alt modes raced across the tarmac before disappearing around the warehouse building. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker raced the other direction in their alt modes.

He stopped, audio sensors internal and external listening. He detected no alarm sirens, no Autobot calls for help or human screaming. No Cybertronian cursing echoed and he began to worry. "Four pranksters all racing from the hangar? Poor tagged bot must be in recharge still or unable to call for help." He jogged across the blacktop onto the concrete pad, ready for action. Peering into the hanger, he saw only Optimus in his bi pedal mode talking to Major Lennox, humans at their assigned work stations and not one screaming or crying.

"Ah, Ironhide. We were just discussing Ambassador Encores visit tomorrow," Optimus stated, optics snapping to the unfamiliar human standing alongside Lennox and back in obvious warning. He was tall and thin, wearing a grey suit with a grey tie and grey ringed glasses.

"I read the memo," Ironhide stalled, pulling up the mainframe entries and reviewing them super speed. "We look forward to meeting him and discussing the locating of NEST bases elsewhere in the world Mr. Banks. "

"You Autobots cannot remain one world power's private toys," the man complained, tapping his clipboard.

"NEST is a multinational operation," Major Lennox corrected. "A full third of our teams are British and various other nationalities spread throughout. Our assets," he ground out the word, hating to use it to describe his friends. "Work by treaty and consideration. They are never under our control."

"Ambassador Encores believes the same, but still leaves us with one problem. Who is going to guard Simone?"

"Ironhide," Optimus said with a decidedly wicked gleam in his optics. "Is my best warrior and fully capable of watching Simone."

::Who and how old is this Simone? Another spoiled human child?:: Ironhide

::No, four years old and a Siamese:: Optimus

:Siamese femme?:: Ironhide

::Siamese cat. You will watch the cat, seeing it comes to no harm. Twins have each done it. I trust you can match their skills?:: Optimus

::With my optics closed:; Ironhide snorted then hesitated. Both sets of twins had gone racing away. What did they know he didn't? 'Then again, those slaggers shirk all command duties. Opening a can of cat food would overload their processors and one foot print on Sunstreaker and he would howl leaking energon. Slackers. I have tolerated that pest Mojo of Sam's. How hard could watching a cat be?' he reasoned. Accessing the mainframe, he found the file marked for whoever watched the cat and a picture of it, sleeping in Ambassador Encores' arms. Her smile was protective and loving as she watched the white creature.

Rule# 1 Never let Simone outside without supervision and wearing her jeweled tracker collar.

Rule# 2 Be prompt in cleaning out her litter box.

Rule # 3 Give her only a quarter of a cup of milk, no exceptions to how much she begs.

Rule# 4 She takes afternoon naps after playtime. Let her sleep only an hour then wake her up.

Rule# 5 Simone loves to play and cuddle but has a bad habit of sneaking under the covers and pouncing.

Ironhide snorted at that one. 'My armor can take a hit from Megatron. I need not fear a cat's claws.'

Two hours later, he watched the cat smelling around his recharge berth and shook his head. "Pit spawned twins couldn't watch this itty bitty thing? Nothing to prank or blast and they were clueless. No wonder Prime made me Bumblebee's guardian." The cat pawed the bed, circling around before curling up in a ball. His audio sensors detected a faint rumbling and he leaned closer. The sound was definitely coming from the tiny creature. A quick search of the internet provided an answer. "Purring, odd way to show contentment," he noted gently running the tip of one of his massive black metal fingers down its spine. The creature stretched out, the purring sound increasing. The ancient warrior mech began to understand why Annabelle wanted one.

Six hours later, he was desperately calling Optimus.

::Prime, you need to find another bot to watch this cat now!:: Ironhide

::I was in recharge. You woke me over Simone?:: Optimus grumpily sent back.

::It is driving me crazy! (yip) And it will not quit meowing for more milk even with all I gave it and the smell in my quarters is unbearable! (ow!) Bluestreak on that bad energon did not reek like this! Do you know what it does in the litter box ?! And what I had to do?!:: Ironhide sent, his frustration and outrage plain.

::You let it sleep too long and now it is awake. You gave it too much milk despite the rule about measuring it out and the resulting smell is because of that. The twins before you disobeyed the rules too:: Optimus

::Prime! It is under my armor (ouch) and it is moving in my wiring (eek) I cannot reach it or transform without crushing it. And it's still meowing!:: Ironhide

Optimus laughed, sliding against wall to keep from jostling Elita off their recharge berth. She opened one optic, then opened both and sat up. He sent her a quick data burst of the conversation up to that point. She laughed and he felt his spark increasing. Her chassis moving with her joy was distracting him badly.

::Call Ratchet or Bumblebee to assist under your armor. Otherwise, handle it. That is an order:: Optimus sent then slid a hand down her side. She made a purring sound, leaning into his chest amour.

"Frag it!" Ironhide swore then half screamed, arching his back as the cat's claws hit a sensitive processing cord.

::Bumblebee! Help! My quarters now!:: Ironhide sent frantically. The young scout responded, battle mask down and arm cannon charged from guard duty. He slammed the door open, ready for anything. He froze as Ironhide thrashed up again then detected the shape inside his systems.

::Simone? How did you get stuck with that creature?:: Bumblebee laughed, disengaging his battle protocols. The bot poured milk into a dish and tempted it out onto the floor. ::You should let the twins watch her. Her owner is picky:: Bumblebee

_WL Rule # 15 Any changes to Annabelle's possessions using Cybertronian technology must be cleared with Autobot command and both her parental units, no exceptions. Including piggy banks._

_190. Do not use our technology to "help the humans" especially Annabelle Lennox without thinking out the end results. They may appear to act or think like us but their race is very different and a small change can have a rolling effect later._

The Captain dropped the report into Prowl's IN bin then spun, nearly colliding with a small human girl. Her blue eyes were large as her blonde ponytail swished with her jumping backwards. "Sorry but you snuck up on me."

"Bumblebee's been teaching me how to be quiet," she stated but it was the man behind her that the Captain connected her identity to.

"You must be Annabelle Lennox?" He said, stepping aside to let her move.

"Yes. I'm here to put change into my piggy bank. Prowl keeps it safe. Starscream stole my last piggy bank," Annabelle stated, sliding the change coin by coin through the large slot in the top.

"Starscream? The psychotic second always retreating seeker silver jet with alien glyphs all over him Starscream?" The captain asked, nearly choking on the words.

"One and the same," Will said, amused at the man's reaction.

"Stole her piggy bank? Why?" He asked, glancing at the large pink pig shaped object sitting on the shelf.

"He's a Decepticon and a meanie," Annabelle frowned then smiled as the last of the change went it. "I'm hungry. Can we go eat now?" At lunch, the Corvette twins overheard her explaining about wanting a new bicycle.

"A real one, no training wheels and pink! All pink with white racing stripes to go really fast! I like going fast. The twins are the fastest but I can pedal too," she stated, shuffling ice cream for dessert. They exchanged a knowing look, heading out of the enormous room.

That night, they borrowed the piggy bank, taking it to Wheeljack's lab. In the morning, it was back exactly where it had been with one minor change. They never mentioned the addition, figuring the child would like the surprise. Neither twin had any idea it would remain there for over six months, the contributions adding up.

"Uhm, anyone got plastic?" the communications second-class tech asked form the doorway, holding up a roll of quarters. The break room was quiet, the three recruits reading until his interruption.

"Plastic what?" Sheila asked, looking up from her study of Autobot repairs.

"Plastic as in the new vending machines," the man pointed down the hallway.

"She doesn't eat chips or soda," her study partner grinned, reaching in his pocket and pulled out a debit card. "The vending machines were switched out. No more change, only cards. Less likely to jam and you can get what you want easier without being a few pennies short each time. Apparently to cut back on damage to them."

"You mean Annabelle wanted a bag of cookies and it jammed halfway in the circle spinner. I heard what happened. Ironhide rocked it, tapped it, shook it then lost his temper when everything but that one item fell out, slamming it down. Least they retiled the floor in a better color," she laughed, stretching to ease her neck kink.

"Where does your change go? Lipstick?" He asked, moving out of reach of her kick.

"Very sexist. Annabelle's piggy bank, she's saving for a bicycle. Sits in Prowl's office on the human shelf. The one where we file our reports." After getting two bags of chips and an energy drink, the man walked over, dropping his pocketful into the bank. He mentioned it later to another soldier looking for change and within a month, multiple handfuls were being dropped in. Skids and Mudflap, reporting to Prowl for their latest prank watched the humans.

"Wanna join in?" Skids asked.

"Might as well. Money don't do us no good except ordering online. And we be banned from that. No more prank supplies. How much?" Mudflap gestured his brownish red arms.

"Standard bet is five hundred credits. So five hundred coins? Hey human, what do you use?" Skids cornered the nearest recruit.

"Quarter roll," he answered, showing them. "Best to carry and wham" he swung with it tucked in his fist. "Nice weapon. Helps you smack harder. Mom still sends me an allowance every week, a human thing" he finished, blushing then quickly left.

"Yo, how come we don't carry quarters?" Skids asked.

"Cause we smack hard. Any harder, there be nothing left to identify," Mudflap stated then high fived him.

The twins placed an order that night for five hundred rolls of quarters to be delivered to their receiving area on a regular schedule. A cleaning drone was borrowed, reprogrammed to carry a box load at a time, unroll the coins and drop them into the piggy bank super speed while the office was empty.

Annabelle visited the base, discovering her usual bike there had been run over by an armored carrier backing up in the storage unit. She wanted to empty the bank, counting how close she was to a new one. Prowl recognized her, greeting her and pointing to the bank as he left to inspect the brig.

::Magnus, please watch Annabelle in my office. I am required elsewhere: Prowl

::Be there in four steps:: Magnus sent then found the human child leaning against the wall, arms crossed and very unhappy.

"I can't lift it," she pouted.

Ultra Magnus formed his lip plates into a smile. "Glad to assist youngling," he half bowed her direction, tucking one arm behind his back in the old ways.

He grasped it with two fingers and pulled, sliding right off the smooth sides without lifting it. Optics blinked as he realized the small shape had resisted his grab. Narrowing his optics, he scanned the device. "No wonder," he processed, cupping it with both hands and lifting. Grunting softly, he shifted it to one hand, tightening the arm cables to hold it steady. "Shall we?" he offered her the free hand.

::Meeting in two breems. Where are you?:: Optimus

::Assisting femme Lennox with an important task:: Magnus

::Oh?:: Optimus

::Escorting her and her piggy bank across the base:: Magnus sent, relaying a quick image of them sitting on his hands as he walked across the base.

::And you said you were not handy around the humans:: Optimus

::Very funny Prime. Time with the humans has corrupted your logic centers. In the recreation room now. Arriving shortly:: Magnus sent then lowered both hands, allowing Annabelle to climb off. The piggy bank he sat on the Autobot made table, watching it bend the reinforced surface. Will Lennox and Epps hugged the little girl before thanking Magnus. The tall red and blue mech left, torn between seeing them open the bank and attending his meeting. The responsibility of the meeting won.

Will pulled the underside plug, jumping backwards as the coins began pouring out onto the table. "Wicked," he grinned as it quickly filled the area then began sliding out over the table as the weight of the coins inside began pushing the rest. Annabelle's eyes grew huge as they kept sliding out.

"Don't just stand there," Will ordered, grabbing handfuls and sliding them to the edges. CLINK CLINK CLINK had them all looking at the piggy bank before backing up.

"That is way too many coins," Epps stated.

"Sub space field?" Lennox asked, his shoulders sagging.

"That would be my guess." He measured the space between them and the rec room door.

"RUN!" They made two steps out, Will grabbing Annabelle and swinging her to his shoulder when it happened. The avalanche of coins flushed out, rattling the walls with their noise. Screaming, they went down as the metal wave knocked their feet out from under them. The screams alerted Bumblebee walking by in the hallway.

The yellow scout opened the door, whistling as the coins poured around his armored feet. A quick grab snagged Will and Annabelle, then Epps as they surged by. A snap sound echoed as he activated his feet pads gravitational locks, keeping him upright as he moved against the rolling mass. The coins continued as they moved down the hall. Later, the coins were rounded up into barrels and counted by the Autobots.

"Annabelle has enough to buy a car," Will sheepishly admitted after seeing the final total.

"Let me guess, Mercedes or Cadillac?" Epps joked.

"No, more like a 2009 Ferrari 599 GTB Fiorano Coupe," he finished.

_**Story Arc – "Knowing where you are wanted" (part 3)**_

Wheeljack vented softly, realizing he would have to tell. "My clan is Renbo." His side bars flashed colors as he attached Ravage's lower jaw back on.

"Known clan. Explorers but disregarded," Soundwave stated, optics dimming as he pulled all available information from his data banks for review. "Reason unstated."

"We looked to the stars when other clans looked to the central core and their own processors," the inventor grumbled. "Explored places no other bot would, learned and taught to improve Cybertron. Once the war expanded, all they wanted was weapons and protoforms to throw onto the front lines. The Renbo clan were the first and last neutrals, choosing to stay civilians. We spread to the stars, giving up Cybertron rather than be drawn into the conflict," he hooked the top jaw on, checking the balance. He rubbed Ravage9's rebuilt jaw affectionately as the mech rubbed back.

"Put down," Soundwave ordered, feeling a twinge of jealousy.

"You're square, ugly and have the personality of an apple 2e computer," Rumble stated. Wheeljack snickered behind his battle mask, reminded of Ironhide and Ratchet at their worst. Ravage9 jumped down, snarling to test his jaw.

"Why battle mask?" Soundwave asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Why do you?" Wheeljack countered configuring his metal fingers back to digits instead of tools.

"Asked first," Soundwave intoned.

"This is why," Wheeljack slid his back to reveal glowing swirling patterns of liquid light where his lower face should have been.

"Dude! Those lights match the colors in your side bars," the other cassette warrior realized.

"Experiment gone wrong?" Rumble asked, turning his optics away from the mesmerizing swirls.

"No."

::Punishment for something you did?:: Laserbeak

"No, not punishment by command or the council," the denial was strong.

::Then why?:: Rumble9.

"Renbo clan were once guardians of the Allspark. Our history records meeting another race, one of light and energy. They were brought before the Allspark and a fight ensued. They wanted the Allspark for experimenting and were forced off Cybertron and contact with them forbidden. A warrior clan was chose to protect the Allspark from then onward," he explained.

"You found them didn't you? The other race?" Rumble asked, crossing his arms.

"No, not exactly," he admitted. "Once I reached fourth frame I went exploring to one of the places mentioned in the clan legends as being their power source. Needed something more concentrated and less acidy than energon. The chamber was full of glowing crystals. I tapped one and it exploded. This is what was left. The energy cannot be drained or removed without a complete shell refit. Even then its energy pattern is wrapped around my core processors."

"The crystals?" Soundwave asked, thinking of possible energy draining to make energon.

"Deadly to our kind and very unstable. Legend never mentioned that," Wheeljack grumbled.

::Bet you are blast to interface with:: Ravage9

"Very funny," the inventor closed his battle mask. "And you?"

Soundwave closed his optics and opened his mask to reveal a slagged, melted mess. "Battle damage matrix exploding. Trusted optics, not plan. Reminder."

"Your chest slide," Wheeljack realized. "That was a retrofit after that event? Never seen anything like it." The blue mech nodded then signaled his cassettes to return to their area and recharge.

"Recharge. Stay?"

"Am I a prisoner?" Wheeljack asked, waiting on the answer.

"No."

"For now then, I'm staying. My security systems will be set," he stated, blue optics giving warning. He trusted them to a point no matter the agreement. They had a temporary truce. Neither would attack nor attempt to override each other's systems

Soundwave nodded, understanding. "No hacking. Repair others." He gestured at the departing mechs.

"Wait, one more question. What were you before you joined the Decepticons?" he asked.

"Historical researcher," he answered, the faintest alteration to his tone showing he liked what he had done before.

"That's why you asked about clans. Night Soundwave." Wheeljack transformed to his car alt mode, rolling back tight against the wall.

_to be continued..._


	59. Chapter 59 Knowing where wanted pt 4

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. How do I come up with this stuff? Things I see, I read or hearing a normal phase and matching it to Transformers. Like 'pink slip' for Elita kicking aft on the obstacle course. She is pink and "fired" Sideswipe as the best hunter on the course. And yes, I do reject a lot of stuff besides all I post. Humor too common or too mature in theme.

The smart answers are the most fun and usually are written the quickest. Nothing to describe per se. The actual wording of the rules is the hardest to convey the idea in short yet still make sense of what follows. I am not military and am trying to be accurate on the brigs and officer titles. I have limited computer time and researching or writing both take time. I prefer to write. Thanks to Cisco girl fic "Bits of Life "for the Primus comment on being born a human and not a Transformer.

As for the story arc, Decepticons are Decepticons who have fought a brutal civil war for centuries. They are nice for a short time but are what they are. And my fic is slash free. Ratchet is only with femme Moonracer and his first mate femme Starflare and no one else. Soundwave has the cartoon G1 pop out front slide to store cassettes inside. Onward to choosing how to react.

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_192. Do not become so attentive to your duties your processors lock on that alone. War and repair take their toll on our strength and time but when we can pursue personal activities, remember family and bond brothers should always be first, middle and last. _

In the Autobot security office on earth, Prowl read his datapad and didn't know whether to vent rapidly or let his optics mist over in defeat. "Eight," he realized. "Eight more rules and they will top two hundred. That should take approximately one earth week or less if the twins, either set are feeling mischievous. How did a side duty become a main duty on documenting 'what not to do' for my fellow mechs?"

::Prowl, we have a situation:: Optimus

::I believed you banned that phrase:: Prowl sent back, hearing the echo of laughter in his leader's tone.

::So I did. Is the brig ready?:: Optimus

::Depends on who and what they did this time:: Prowl sent, holding his head in his metal hands, elbows resting on his desk.

::Ready to be left? Ratchet lives in medbay, Ironhide on the target range, Wheeljack in his lab or in medbay and you in the brig or your office. I am about to order all of you into the field:: Optimus

::Decepticon activity or protecting humans?:: Prowl

::Neither. A short term mission on a related military base then personal leave on any continent of your choice, singular or in teams, including with femmes. The femme has to agree to go with you of course:: Optimus

::I respectfully decline the invitation. I have no femmes I wish to share a mission with and my duties…::Prowl

::I clearly stated I was about to ORDER. You may go alone, team with another mech if you are worried about being caught alone in an attack but you will leave the Diego Garcia base for a time specified:: Optimus

Prowl vented softly, wing doors dropping down a level. He knew better than to argue with that tone. ::Will you be under similar orders?:: Prowl

::Elita and I are planning on personal time with all of you off base:: Optimus sent, the sound of soft chuckling echoing underneath the message.

::Ah, I see. Very well. Awaiting orders:: Prowl

_189. When a human asks are you mechanically based? Do not answer:_

_a. Biological is so ugly. Oops! Did I vocalize that out aloud? _*Sunstreaker

_b. We're the next stage of evolution which makes you obsolete. _

_c. Only way to be!_

_d. Like duh! Both my creators were mechanical, can't you tell?_

_e. Swapping parts is easier and faster than growing new ones. How long until your brain is grown and working ? _

_f. There was nothing better to choose from at the time. _

_g. Keep a secret? We only look mechanical._

_h. Are you sure you're smart enough to understand an answer after asking a dumb question like that ?_

_i. The Allspark cube was metal and started our race so that means?_

_j. We are not mechanical, we are Cybertronian._

_k. Why? What else would we be? Play dough? _*Wheeljack

_l. Logically the evidence is before you and illogically you fail to believe your own optic sensors. Tell me, do you ask a price check in a dollars are us dollar store? *Prowl_

_m. I'm a soldier not a scientist or philosopher _*Ultra Magnus

_n. Yo bro! Is we mechanical? *shakes head no* We be aft kickers that what we is!_ *Skids and Mudflap

_o. Freedom is the right of all sentient races but there are times I really wonder about human intelligence._ *Optimus Prime

_202. Do not question a human femme's protectiveness, parental abilities or challenge one to prove herself. You would not do that to an Autobot or Decepticon femme and survive either._

"Major Lennox," the communications office yelled. "Message from base for you sir." The hot desert air swirled between them ruffling the tent flap. Soldiers rested, cleaning weapons and patching their uniforms. Silverbolt rested under a massive camouflage tarp in his alt mode as the others moved in their bi pedal mode.

"Unless its priority one, take a message, I'm busy," He yelled back, gesturing at the damaged Autobots and fried Decepticon drones at his feet. The tech waved, disappearing back inside his tent. Ratchet ignored them, hands deep in Ironhide's side. The ancient warrior mech sat still as he was repaired. Silverblade watched then turned away as blue energon dripped, and found herself checking the humans for their injuries. Bluestreak and Prowl discussed tactics, both their wing doors were up high as they reviewed the sneak attack and their win, only Starscream and Barricade escaping.

Two minutes later, the communications walked back out, removing his head set down onto his neck and looking at those assembled in a half circle. Taking a deep breath, he straightened and approached slowly. His shuffling feet scattered the sand, its faint hissing audible to sensitive alien hearing. 'Increased heart rate, perspiration in the palms and twitching of chest muscles,' Optimus scanned. The man's vitals continued to climb the closer he got to Will Lennox. 'His message bodes ill,' the leader recognized. The other Autobots, keyed by Optimus' attention also focused on the human.

"Major, uhm about that call," he began, twisting the end of his headset cord around his fingers.

"Yes," Will acknowledged, intent on the damaged drone.

"We have a situa… ahh, there's a problem back at Diego Garcia."

"What kind of problem? I'm halfway around the world mopping up Decepticons in Egypt and they need me?" Will turned, exasperated at the interruption. "This better be good."

"Oh, it is. Your wife is in the brig. She attacked one of the visiting dignitaries and blew up his private plane with a sabot launcher," he reported without a twitch of an expression.

"What!" "She did?" "Go Sarah!" Various voices exclaimed. Will focused on the man, grabbing his uniform shirt lapels and pulling him closer.

"Find out what happened and I want all the details by the time we are in the air," he released one hand to point at Silverbolt in his plane alt mode. "Gear up, core team and Autobots leave in ten minutes," he ordered, knowing better than to leave the Autobots out.

Above him, Optimus nodded, responding to a distant signal. "Major, Red Alert has Annabelle secure and unharmed in med bay. He wishes to know if you want him to retrieve Sarah?"

Will flashed half a dozen expressions across his face before sighing, removing his combat helmet and running one hand through his hair. "No, as long as she is okay leave her there. I will get her released properly. What happened?"

"He doesn't know. There was an altercation in the side hangar between the official and your family. Sarah hit the man, knocking him out. She was escorted from the structure then returned shortly with the sabot launcher. He is unable to communicate directly with her and the NEST soldiers were not present."

"Sarah will let me know don't worry," he grimaced, replacing his combat helmet.

"What I want to know," Ironhide started. "Who allowed Sarah a weapon in the first place?"

"And did they get it back away from her?" Sunstreaker asked, loading onto the plane. "That femme is scary enough unarmed."

The trip back was fast and uneventful. Even Ironhide remained quiet, allowing Ratchet to continue his repairs. Silverbolt touched down at Diego Garcia, the runway empty and cleared for his landing. Red Alert rolled across the tarmac to greet them, in his Fire Chief's car alt mode, red lights and sirens flashing. Once stopped, Annabelle hoped out form the driver's seat and ran for her dad. "Mommy was mad!" she said. "Like Ironhide at his worstest."

"His worst," Will corrected automatically as the Autobots rolled out, transforming once clear of the hold. Optimus was first, followed by Ratchet then Ironhide.

'Primus you missed one of our own when you allowed Sarah's essence to be in a human shell,' Ironhide prayed. Chromia's alt mode slid into view, racing up to him before transforming, her hands touching his marred chest. He folded both his black armored hands around her blue ones, feeling her concern flowing over their mated spark bond.

::Too close lover:: Chromia sent, seeing the pulse of his spark through the ragged armor fragments.

::Fragger Starscream sneak attack. I got him back. Saved some for you next time. For now, he can run:: Ironhide teased softly, feeling his injuries and the need to recharge.

::Rest, save your strength:: Chromia encouraged, sliding up to half support his bad hip joint.

"I'm not decrepit or with the matrix yet femme!" Ironhide snapped verbally, switching to less personal contact.

Her laughter rang out over the runway.. "Save your strength for me lug head. Injured means you are off the duty list and on my wish list," Chromia practically purred in her vocal tone, running one metal finger across the side of his helm while sending a data burst image.

He choked, nearly stumbling. "Where did you process that from!" His intense blue optics focused on her as his spark pulsed faster.

"Firestar. Helped research mating practices of our kind for the medical core on Cybertron before the war. Sent me a file or two way back then. Found them updating an expiring memory core," Chromia stated then snarled her lip plates as Ratchet stepped in front of them.

"Med bay is to the right. You know the drill. He is yours after I finish repairs," the medic reminded, leaning in to match glares with her.

"**Excuse me,"** Annabelle stated in Cybertronian. **"Femme creator free help? Mech unhappy." **Her dad looked blank at her clicking sounds but guessed the message from the way they clicked back, sounding encouraging. Ten minutes later, he faced the sergeant at arms in the holding area, Sergeant Epps and Captain Jorgensen restraining him from attacking the man.

"What do you mean she is not here? I want my wife now!"

"She's not in this brig. The men were afraid of her and the Autobot brig is built to hold that type power. She is in their brig," he explained, keeping his distance and the desk between them.

Fifteen minutes later the Autobots and Will stared through the glowing blue energon bars at his wife. "You hit him because he insulted you?"

"No, he challenged me on our ability to protect Annabelle. I told him to back off and he kept pushing. Threatened to take custody of her from us and the Autobots and hold her elsewhere." Optimus narrowed his optics as he listened, his large blue and red frame shifting. The Autobots behind him growled or muttered in Cybertronian.

"I informed him she had special status, without explaining what. He called me a dumpy housewife who needed a reality check amid an alien civil war and was incapable of defending myself from a teacup. Then I punched him. I blew up his little two seater plane to show I could handle a weapon. I do need you to show me how to clean it before I return it." Sara finished, gesturing towards the sabot launcher sitting on the floor by the wall.

"They let you keep it? That's against brig rules," Prowl said, his wing doors straight up in near shock.

" They were not about to argue with me," she stated. Prowl considered then keyed the bars unlocking sequence. Sarah was released and the visiting dignitary refused to pursue the matter. Seven separate conversations with different Autobots convinced him of their sincerity to protect the Lennox family. He left the next day about a cargo jet, a spectacular bruise across his lower jaw. Sarah promised to never borrow a weapon outside of a true combat situation and Prowl added two human size bunks to the Autobot brig. He felt guilty Sarah had sat on the floor her entire time, the recharge berth too high to reach.

_**Story Arc – "Knowing where you are wanted" **__(part 4)_

Ratchet leaned against the bluff facing the sea, absentmindedly spinning a silver wrench in his metal hands. His optics were dim, not discerning the blue ocean waves crashing nearby on the golden rocks. "No trace and no signal. Pit it 'Jack, where are you? When I find you online I'm going to offline you. Then repair you and offline again for scaring me like this." A priority repair call flashed across his system.

::Can you repair a frizzing energon sword field catch?:: Sunstreaker

::No, you need to ask..:: he trailed off. Wheeljack had designed and built all their sword systems to subspace instead of the old retraction into their limbs. The wrench in his hand stopped spinning.

::Never mind. I'll switch the parts and use my right side only:: Sunstreaker

::Autobots, report to the main road in four breems:: Optimus command interrupted their conversation.

::We're leaving?:: Ratchet asked, his tone without emotion.

::Hound and Bluestreak will stay and search. Ultra Magnus and Red Alert will finish the buoy relays. It has been four days:: Optimus

::Understood:: Ratchet answered, closing the comm line. "But not accepted." The medic began reviewing memories at random until he detected an approaching mech. Leaning forward, he recognized the large blue metal foot stepping around the cliff edge.

"Am I disturbing?" Optimus asked softly, moving into view. His chest plate windows were fogged from the moisture even as his metal sparkled with the water drops. His side mirrors sparkled with the midday sun, reflecting flashes against the cliff.

"No. What do you need?" His optics automatically spinning while beginning full protoform scans. The wrench retracted into his forearm. His side windows were fogged over as water dripped off his armor, forming rivulets of water from long exposure.

"My chief medical officer to have hope," he stated.

"Sorry, gave away that module vorns ago," he quipped, folding his arms while nudging a nearby boulder with his foot.

"You and Wheeljack?"

"Were bond brothers and nothing more Prime," he grumbled testily. "Neither of us are that slag twisted. And Moonracer would never share. He understood what it takes to replace a processing unit you mechs let the Decepticons slag. We all have his handiwork and upgrades, even me. He can repair better than any assistant I have ever had. Wheeljack took things to the next step, reducing power draws and interlacing systems."

"I know," Optimus agreed. "My arm rifle needs alignment on the targeting. For now, I have to link it through my optics rather than the auto sequencer."

"When we get him back he can fix it," Ratchet replied without running the words fully through his processor. Optimus lip plates twitched at the edges. There was hope yet.

**Decepticon Base - Florence, Oregon**

Soundwave surveyed Wheeljack, his shoulder launcher charged even as he sat against the wall. The inventor pretended not to notice the deadly weapon as he ducked under and around it to continue. His touch was sure and steady as he removed the main support braces. Ravage9 and Laserbeak were perched nearby as the inventor backed away to lay the glass looking chest insert on the long metal table.

::Spark vulnerable. Guard me:: Soundwave

::He's strange not stupid. Thinking of repairs not offlining. You're safe boss. He is an Autobot. Believe in honor and keeping their oaths:: Laserbeak

::Autobots weak, lose war:: Soundwave

::You've been around Megatron too long. That psychotic thinks we are weak and therefore useless. He treats us as normal:: Rumble interrupted, carrying in energon containers, serving his teammates.

Wheeljack's side bars flashed colors as he secretly listened to their conversation. 'Thank you Bumblebee for the scout adaptations. Even if I have to be in the same area to listen in.' His hands adjusted the catches, refining and smoothing the metal. Rumble sat the energon containers on the table edge before hopping up to watch. Wheeljack nodded and began explaining the problem. Laserbeak and Ravge9 listened, weapons offline.

'Must eliminate threat to relationship with cassettes,' Soundwave processed, red optics blazing. A possessive hate began to run through his core systems. He had researched spark splitting, risked their creation, and nurtured them into their current forms. He protected them from the other Decepticons, keeping them as autonomous mechs and not drones.

Wheeljack flipped the cassette cover expertly, working on the back. "See here? The first lines peeled into small metal shavings. Sure sign of degradation wear." All three cassettes noted it, filing away into their systems. Soundwave's own system updated with their information, worse he felt their gratitude for being taught and repaired.

An incoming high priority closed link signal warning flashed across his optics. "Must go," he stated, rising to his feet.

"Easy big guy!" Wheeljack turned and put both hands up defensively. "Your chest is open and vulnerable."

"Irregardless. Return shortly. Guard," he ordered his cassette before leaving the room.

"Bot is as stubborn as Ironhide," the inventor muttered, traces of red in his side bar. His enhanced system couldn't break the encoding of the message relaying back and forth outside. 'Has to be other Decepticons. Didn't want them to know about me or me about them?' The slide was repaired and ready to be put back on. Intent on accessing repair modules to teach the cassettes, he disconnected the listening array copied from Bumblebee's systems.

Soundwave returned, sliding back to the floor. "Proceed," he said. Laserbeak hopped down to his leg, locking optics with his. Wheeljack hoisted the slide up and over, dropping it into place before welding.

::What's wrong? You seem upset:: Laserbeak sent then shifted out of the way.

::Megatron arriving:: Soundwave

::Pit take him! Now he's coming to visit?:: Rumble jumped off the table, looking around for the mad leader to burst into the room any second.

Wheeljack finished the last weld, stepping back to examine the work as his fingers transformed from the welding tip. "I have one bracket to retool and switch out then it will be perfect. Let the welds set." He returned to the work bench, designing an improved, double catch release without noticing the others agitation.

::By sunset he arrives:: Soundwave nodded once, red optics intense on the white mech at the workbench. ::Plan upload:: Soundwave sent the data packet then rose to his feet, medical nannites confirming the strength of the final repair.

"Query? Status self repair?"

"Fully operational. Why?" Wheeljack mumbled before hearing a snapping sound, his only warning. Soundwave released the breaker charge, dropping the inventor into stasis lock. His white helm clunked against the table as his frame sagged.

Soundwave slid under his arms, lifting him off the stool and dropping him onto the floor, face up.

::You sure we have to damage him?:: Laserbeak flapped his golden wings.

::He fixed us:: Ravage9 growled, swinging his dark muzzle side to side.

"Required. Core protection. Avert suspicion," Soundwave reminded, still jealous of his cassettes attachment. His metal fingers changed into tools before removing the outer chest armor plating. Two clamps sealed the end and nearest connections above and below inside of Wheeljack. Precisely, he undid only the last memory core, setting it on the floor.

Soundwave stomped a wide blue footpad on it, enjoying the feeling. The memory core crunched and collapsed, throwing sparks and metal shards. Laserbeak hopped closer, aiming with his newly repaired eye laser. The beam shot out straight and thin, slicing the back third of the unit away. The removed metal armor was quickly piled over the crumpled unit. The large blue mech aimed his shoulder launcher, lowering down the strength. "Simulate direct hit," he said, firing into the pile. The pieces scattered, charred and smoking. "Collect and reattach," he instructed. "Return three breems." He strode out without a backward glance.

"Where's he going?" Rumble asked, holding two white amour pieces.

::Prepare the shuttle. Faster to move Autobot:: Ravage9 nosed a large piece across the floor then used his teeth to wrestle it into position. Shockwave returned precisely within three breems, satisfied with the reassembled chest.

"Damage, level two," he ordered. The cassettes waited, weapons charged. Soundwave knew they would ultimately obey but they hesitated. "Autobot offline Decepticons. Destroy us."

"Pull my memory core and I wouldn't remember to be nice either," Rumble grumped but shifted his arms into pile drivers.

Soundwave crossed Wheeljack's white arms, holding them on the outer edges then nodded at Laserbeak. The mech transformed into his bird of prey alt mode, jumping into the air. Screaming, he dove and deliberately raked across before soaring up and diving again. The metal screeching sound was loud he tore into the downed Autobot's arms.

"Strike," Soundwave ordered Rumble as the cassette warrior approached Wheeljack's left leg.

_To be continued…_


	60. Chapter 60 Knowing where wanted pt 5

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Hardest part after writing the fic and editing it a thousand times, (missing that one error you scream at later) is the reader response. Most of the time it is good to great but when you hit submit, you always wonder if the crowds will show up with pitchforks and torches at your door or send energon cookies and huggies with smiley faces. Then the e-mails and reviews arrive and you know.

Blades is the Autobot red rescue helicopter. Here on the Oregon coast we rely on the coast guard helicopters and they fly over our area every day. Onward to reaching out and having friends to catch you when falling.

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In the Autobot's Security Office on Diego Garcia, Prowl's optics discerned the writing on the back of the third page of the human paper memo and his lip plates turned down. "I thought after several months without another occurrence, this list was done."

_You know you are addicted to Transformers when:_

_19. Every person you date has to have bright blue eyes, not hazel, brown or green but bright blue. _

_20. You attend a costume party looking exactly like your favorite Autobot but claim the costume is an original creation to avoid violating the Autobot / Earth treaty and NEST confidentiality agreement. _

_21 You feel guilty whey you have not washed your car, accidentally hit a pothole or slam the trunk too hard._

_22. You mark time as 7 years ago was Mission City, 5 years ago was the sun reaper in Egypt and 2 years ago was the Allspark rebuild._

_23. Someone says, "He's big and tall" causing you to snort, "Arcee is taller than that and Mudflap's chest plate puts his to shame."_

_24. You are completing your annual psychological evaluation and for the word association you answer the following:_

_Leader - Prime_

_Scum - Liaison_

_Distant - Cybertron_

_Fuel - Energon_

_Mother - Femme creator_

_Pain - Ratchet_

_25. You see a car accident in front of you and stop to help. You ask the car first if it is functional before checking on the driver and passenger inside. You say things like, 'do not move, your leg strut is cracked at that odd angle,' and 'you will be fine once you reach med bay' instead of the hospital. Disclaimer - State the driver or passenger were in shock and misunderstood what you said._

Prowl scanned the pages, revealing dozens of human fingerprints and Autobot energy signatures. "One time of catching it first instead of last and we will see about this list." His chronometer beeped, reminding him the time to shut the office down and leave for the mainland per Prime's orders was fast approaching. Keying commands, he set the security locks and on a second processing, added two fail safe disables if he returned early. The monitor wavered left to right before displaying a systems warning message:

**If you are seeing this, you are planning to sneak back. Not a good example for my second in command to set. I will brig you. Elita made me promise to enforce my own rules this time. Optimus Prime**

Prowl chuckled, giving in to the inevitable. "Elita enforcing the rules? Matrix forbid me to disobey the femme commander and a Prime." He closed the datapad and left, the timer lowering the overhead lights.

_WL Rule# 16 Do what it takes to survive in a Transformer battle. No handheld weapon or body armor we have comes close to theirs. The Decepticons are faster, stronger and could care less if our entire planet is toast. We are brave enough to be on the battlefield, smart enough to know when we are outgunned and clever enough to find a way to survive even if it means retreating. _

_193. Do not forget that our human allies are weaker and more fragile on the battlefield. They are fierce and tenacious making they seem more like us and will take chances our logic processors would forbid to even consider._

"How do you feel?" Master Sergeant Epps asked, waving three fingers in front of Major Will Lennox as he reclined against the armored personal carrier wheel housing.

"Like I have been run over by Optimus. If I look hard enough I know I'll find his tire marks somewhere," Will groaned, feeling sore everywhere on his body. His skull felt like it had been remodeled from the inside with a sledgehammer.

"Prime's not here. Sonic blast by that slagging' Starscream. 'Con can't even fight honorably," Ironhide grumped, leaning down and blocking the sunlight.

"How close?" he mumbled, aching like a direct hit that nothing missed. He felt his body with both hands, encountering only body armor and found no holes or gaps. Even his tan combat helmet was intact and tightly strapped on.

"Enough to injure but not offline," Ironhide answered, the edge of his lip plate curled upward as he watched Will's reaction. "Rattled my processors. The rest of your men are still affected," he pointed to the unit as they sat or wobbled on their feet, all of them holding their heads. "Hound gave the only warning. I may not have Ratchet's optics but your skull plate is intact. Vitals are satisfactory, better than the last weekend when you got drunk."

"I could use a drink now. Heck, two drinks," he said, climbing slowly to his feet with Epps help. "How come you're not affected?" he focused on his black officer.

"Was with Hound and Trailbreaker and 'Breaker covered us in a force field. Hound is on perimeter, verifying sensor bounce backs. Whatever is in the ruins up ahead, the Decepticon's power signatures are all over it," he answered brightly.

"Why not a nice quiet grass filled park? Or forest area in the mountains? Why always some ancient stone structure in the middle of the slagging desert? No shade and we stand out for every seeker?" Will complained, stumbling forward to brace against Ironhide's leg plate.

"That was Annabelle's favorite place to hold onto when she was younger," Ironhide teased, whirring his cannons, battle systems engaged.

::You there?:: Hound

::Nope. On the way back to Diego Garcia for energon and my femme dingbot! Do you scouts ever make sense?:: Ironhide snapped, barely discerning the green coloring miles ahead.

::Save the energon pretzels for me then. Ruins are empty, power signature is behind them. Object was buried in the sand:: Hound

::Was buried?:: Ironhide

::Our size crater. All the way down to the bedrock. Clear to come visit:: Hound

Ironhide relayed the information, the men moving forward, many still staying close to their armored carriers for balance. The wind increased, stinging their skin with windblown sand. Goggles flipped down and they advanced.

::Get here fast!:: Hound

::Where are they? The 'Cons are mine!:: Ironhide

::Look up:: Hound sent, the awe and fear in his mental tone clear.

Ironhide grumbled then halted, jaw gears dropping open. The entire horizon was dark and rolling toward them. "Primus save us. Sandstorm!" Ironhide yelled, gesturing up then held still as the humans ran around his feet. He waited then headed to the end of the convoy, jumping and transforming. Tires were overinflated and his suspension rose on command to handle the uneven shifting surface. The rear guard ran up, the men hopping into his truck bed without urging. Throwing sand tails, he raced for the ruins then swerved out and around them. Trailbreaker waved his dark arms, the glow of his force field cackling brightly on both fists as he stood on the inner edge of the crater. Ironhide shot up and over the edge then swore as the steep angle had him sliding uncontrollably. His alt mode began turning, the men in his pickup bed blocking his ability to transform.

Wheels locked, he slid sideways towards Will and Epps. Gasping, both men scrambled out of the way but only Epps made it. Will grunted as Ironhide slammed into him on the driver side, pushing him down and forward. The man disappeared underneath the Top Kick truck. Sensors registered him implanted down in the sand but alive, his body barely visible. Further down, Hound braced with his hands outstretched, locking in as he stopped Ironhide's slide. The men crouching on the rock trembled at their near miss then looked up as the sky went black. The sand descended, pounding Trailbreaker's force field. Further up the crater wall, Epps reached Will, holding his head and shoulders still with his hands.

"Don't move. Let them check you out," Epps ordered.

Hound approached, kneeling as his optics focused. "No broken or cracked support struts but subdermal hematomas already forming."

"Sub what?" Will gasped, spitting sand.

"Bruises," Epps translated, reaching down and scooping sand away from his chest. "Only you get ran over by Ironhide and walk away with bruises."

"No walking," he groaned, twisting to pull free.

Hound slid his green metal hand underneath, lifting the human up, letting the sand sift through his fingers. "Easy Major, I have you." The human was carried down to the base rock.

"Next time move faster. Your sparkmate would have offlined me if you had offlined," Ironhide growled even as he continued scanning his friend.

::Nice apology big guy:: Hound

::Sarah doesn't take apologies where her mate is concerned:: Ironhide

"Under a force field, in a dark sandy hole with sweaty men and Transformers. This is not my day," Will sighed.

Three hours later, the sand storm had blown past. Trailbreaker released the force field from the center out, allowing the accumulated sand to slide off onto ground level. The men breathed the fresh air, rising to their feet. The three mechs formed a chain, lifting the men out then team lifted the personnel carriers out of their sandy entrapments on the ground above. "Head back to the drop zone. Rendezvous there with Silverbolt and Blades," Will ordered, determined to set an example by walking the way back.

They were on the last third of the trip when it happened. The ground rumbled, sand shifting under the men. The Decepticon Scorponok exploding up then another Scorponok then another Scorponok as the air filled with Ironhide's concussive blasts and Hound's rifle.

"Aim for their sparks!" Will ordered. "Aim for...!" The closest Scorponok tail whipped his direction. The sand scraped on his face as he dove into it under the spiked tail. Rising, he steadied on one knee, compensating for the ground's give as he fired into its spark. It spun, the sabot round missing, melting the surrounding body armor.

"Down!" Ironhide yelled, the automatic reflexes of years of training inside of Will took over. He dove flat, feeling the whisk of the air across the back of his neck. A second silver spiked tail whipped by atain then exploded into fragments from an overhead shot. Blades, in his red emergency rescue helicopter alt mode, fired his front blasters from the landing skids, providing cover.

::Drones. Not one has a spark. Armor on chest and neck strong, weak everywhere else:: Blades

::Take them down!::Ironhide

::Trying:: Hound sent, kicking the smoking shell off his legs. The humans retreated, letting the Transformers fight it out. The mechs mixed among the flinging metal shapes, too close to risk a stray shot. The last Scorponok drone was hit, exploding its cycler turbines up and out. The concussive wave knocked Hound onto his aft and the men into the sand. Will, commanding his men was the closest and felt both the blast and Hound's impact next to him.

A steady tapping on his shoulder made him focus. "Did Ironhide shoot me out of one of his cannons?" Will asked, rolling over.

"No," Epps said.

"Can he? Couldn't hurt worse and I might enjoy the view on the way," Lennox mumbled before passing out. Hound cradled him gently, moving towards the rescue helicopter. "Sarah is on base visiting. Comm her to meet him in med bay and leave the ice behind."

"Ice packs help bruises for humans," Blades reminded.

Hound laughed, keeping his hands steady. "No, for us. She knows cold slows us down and we need the speed to gain safe distance to get beyond her wrath."

"Why not arm her and let her loose on the Decepticons?"

"You want to hand her a weapon then try to get it back later?" Ironhide asked, eye plates raised.

"Good point."

_**Story Arc – "Knowing where you are wanted" **__(part 5)_

Over the Florence coast of Oregon state, Soundwave piloted the small shuttle, cloak engaged as the counter grav kept if aloft. "Drop imminent," he told the cassettes. They looked anywhere but at the white mech's damaged body that rested between them.

::This ain't right:: Rumble

::What can we do?:: Ravage9

::Trigger self-repair?:: Laserbeak

::Self-repair and distress signal:: Rumble

::How?:: Ravage9

::Once dropped, Laserbeak burn a hole in his side. Ravage9 reach in and reset the emergency module. Sunlight will charge it enough to trigger later, after we are gone::Rumble

Soundwave eased the counter grav off, lowering to the rocky coast below. The shuttle hovered, tilting the mech out the main hatch onto the release cable. Laserbeak and Ravage9 hopped out, guiding the form down. "Release and return," Soundwave intoned, not aware of the activity below his view.

At the Yaquina Bay Coast Guard Command Center, the Autobots watched the last sensor net come online and report its data.

"A lot of lives will be saved with this system. Give us the warning we need to evacuate thousands," the base commander saluted them as his men cheered.

The Prime inclined his head forward in a silent thank you. The images of Jazz and dozens of others lost under his command passed his optics. 'You deserve the cheers, not me. I lead and failed. You should all be here,' he processed, feeling the weight of their loss in his spark. Autobots vented suddenly, heads snapping to the south as a distinct ping signal began bouncing off their systems.

_Autobot Emergency Autobot Emergency Locator beacon – encoding Wheeljack, Civilian inventor. Prime's earth team. Autobot Emergency Autobot Emergency _

"Wheeljack's signal!" Ratchet shouted. "We can find him."

"Or a trap," Prowl reminded. "Not the first time Decepticons used one of our distress signals." Sideswipe and Sunstreaker grinned, ready for battle or finding the inventor. Their weapons were how they lived and he designed the best.

"We owe it to Wheeljack to risk it. Autobots transform and roll out." They raced out the base gates, never slowing on curves a normal car would have lost control on, plunging into the sea.

Arriving, Optimus slid to a stop, pulling the exact location. "Over the cliff," he realized, transforming with the others following. "Autobots, prepare for battle." The twin slid their swords out, splitting to the right and left. The other mechs spread out, facing all directions, weapons charged and battle systems ready.

Ratchet further identified, "No internal comm link, no signal tracker but a definite Cybertronian distress signal, his specific id on it."

"My command link to him is offline," Optimus said.

"He will be shortly if he can only transmit our distress signal after all this time."

Optimus approached the cliff edge slowly. His optics spun, seeing a familiar white shape face down over the rocks below. Later he would review the scene, playing it back carefully. For now, all he knew was Ratchet's gasp at the char mark across his wing doors and tattered left leg bent and collapsed. A single leap and Optimus landed, crushing the rocks underneath with his mass. Ratchet was right beside, both carefully turning the mech over.

"Wheeljack old friend," Optimus vented, seeing the physical injuries.

"Spark is intact and energon is low but tolerable. Self-repair is barely functioning."

Wheeljack heard the voices from a great distance, trying to lock on anything as he floated in darkness. Internal systems flashed for his attention.

_Memory core reboot – failure. Sequencing gaps. Irretrievable files. Backup disengaged._

'Disengaged?' He processed fuzzily then remembered. 'Backup systems removed for downloads while recharging. I lost a great design once. Don't remember but the core was corrupted. Now all my stuff is saved during recharge.'

_Memory core search – date versus data mismatch. Files not found. Attempting reboot._

Voices drifted in and out of his audio range.

"Online but careful you fraggers!"Ironhide swore from a distance.

"Silverbolt inbound," Optimus regal baritone stated but sounded strained.

'Why is he upset? Who is hurt?' Wheeljack tried to focus.

"Easy 'Jack. You're safe. Triggering stasis." Ratchet's voice followed him into the darkness.

The trip back to Diego Garcia was fast and quiet for the Autobots. Arriving, Optimus, Ironhide and the twins each held one side of the metal stretcher carrying Wheeljack. Outside med bay, they waited for Ratchet's report. He could have sent it to every comm or posted a short note on the mainframe but on the gravest cases, he faced them directly. They waited to know any change and he understood their feelings. Weary and composed he faced them and listed the injuries and probable repair times. "The rest we don't know."

"Was he compromised?" Prowl asked then felt the glares as his audio receivers heard their snarls.

"For once show spark more than security officer!" Ironhide growled.

"Not even attempted. I had to reseal his connection ports two joors before he left on that mission for the wetter atmosphere. Not even a micro scratch on the port or any intrusion attempt. Injuries are all direct battle."

"He fought and?" Optimus asked.

"They left him figuring he called for help and we were coming," Ironhide rolled his cannons once. When they did meet the Decepticons, he had payback for his friend.

"Or he hit Soundwave bad enough he retreated," Sideswipe guessed. "A mech that makes all our weaponry and armor would recognize a weak spot and how to hit it. That glass slide of his is a great target."

"Then he crawled off and over the cliff? Or fell over?" was Sunstreaker's addition.

"Faint traces of salt water but not significant. We are too heavy to float or wash back up. Without power, the water would have surrounded his spark spires. Spark chamber was dry. He will recover. Crush injury on left leg from Rumble is the worse. Total reconstruction on that. Every internal strut support in it is warped."

"Sounds like he went through a major fight. I thought he was against that. How traumatized will he be?" Major Lennox asked. He had waited with the Transformers, showing the support for their sacrifices.

"None. Other than repair time and he is use to that. They blasted the memory core. The end piece is flat gone. Last solid memory is roughly an orn before he left the base. Files for that time are fragmented. Without the missing piece to reconstruct there is no way to know exactly what happened. His last backup was the night before he left on the mission. I have shifts scheduled for you, femmes first then the rest."

"Why us?" " You said he would make it!" "You hate us mucking up med bay," the assembled bots stated.

Ratchet waved their protests down. "Yes, but he has to know we need him. The femmes can handle the repair monitoring and keep him distracted while you remind him of what he has designed and needs to repair. Med bay can be cleaned without wrecking my processor," Ratchet admitted.

_To be continued…_


	61. Chapter 61 Knowing where wanted pt 6

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Thanks to my mom for the idea of blocking headlights and windshields by human idiots. She enjoys Transformers and her favorite Autobot is Bumblebee but she likes to quote Skids and Mudflap. And she is over 70 years old! Go figure. I apologize for typos as I finished this online without being able to use a spell checker or regular writing program.

Story Arc with Wheeljack is wrapping up and transiting into a sparkling arc. Yes, sparklings will be appearing in this fic, one for Ironhide and Chromia even though there are great fics out there already on them. The other sparkling will be more of a mystery in the beginning with plot twists and excitement. And I have not forgotten the Autobots ordered on vacations either. Onward to realizing what you know and learning what you don't.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR

_WL Rule #17 Our race is not known for sharing our world or making intelligent decisions. Do not let our idiots ruin our relationship with the Transformers. They have saved our world and will die before letting us, why should we not do the same for them? _

_194. Do not judge an entire race of sentient beings based on a few encounters or a few of their kind. If humans had met the Decepticons first what would they have thought of us? How do you determine their view of us by what you do? _

At the NEST base on Diego Garcia, Major Will Lennox faced the recruits in the auditorium, less than a third of the original group remaining. Surprisingly, several were becoming accepted as NEST members and were teaming with the Autobots. The remaining three were still a problem but not enough to remove them yet. Cybertron credits and money were calculating the day and time they would leave. The heaviest betting was on whether they finally quit or were kicked off the island base. He clicked the remote in his hand, keying the next question onto the main screen.

Please put in order the Transformer's most complicated systems:

a. Self - repair

b. Personality Modules

c. Transform alt scan

d. Battle systems and protocols

e. Weapons and targeting

f. Movement and coordination

g. Memory

h. Spark

Major Lennox waited one minute then gave the exact order, noting the shock and surprise on a couple of faces. "You really didn't think all they did was fight? The transforms are to hide them not rule them. So a.) Self-repair b.) Personality modules and g.) Memory better be your top three in some order. Their sparks are none of your concern other than it is still there when checked. Their movement and coordination is far superior as no recruit has ever been stepped on but you sorry lot have tagged them with friendly fire paint splats too many times. And on that note, gear up and report to the obstacle course."

The Autobot officers stood next to the wooded watching platform of humans and watched the teams moving against each other. Skids and Mudflap were ambling forward in their bi pedal modes, zig zagging across a flat stretch of ground.

"What are they doing?" Optimus asked, gesturing their side to side movements. The tallest mech present, he observed the entire course while the others watched the monitors.

"Practicing ninja stealth skills. Trying to blend in with their environment," Sam explained, shaking his head. Mikeala snickered, rolling her eyes over at Bumblebee. He rested his metal forearms on the wood rail, tapping his yellow helm playing the song snip, "_Crazy for you_."

"Crazy but good," Epps corrected. "Good at getting into trouble," he corrected when everyone turned to look at him.

"Oh!" Mikeala gasped, covering her eyes with her hands as the course map showed the trap the green mech was about to trigger. Every bot winced at the metal impact crunch sounds that followed.

"Ouch. That left a dent. Medic?" Epps said.

"I'm ALS," Ratchet stated, folding his yellow green arms across his reinforced chassis. "Ain't lifting Skids"

The bots snickered then Mikeala explained to Sam. "ALS usually means Advanced Life Support care. Professional joke."

Sam shrugged, not really understanding then reached, pulling her close. "I like you professional. White med coat, trained hands to reach all the right places," he held them in his and leaned closer towards her lips then realized all optics and eyes were watching them cuddle. "And now we return to our scheduled programming," he faced the monitor but kept one arm wrapped around her waist.

Skids rolled over onto his back, green armor smoking. "That hurt!"

"Suppose to hurt! That was an aft kicking,'" Mudflap grabbed his arm, pulling him back upright. The orange mech guided him to the yellow striped area that signaled safety time outs.

"Fire in the hole!" The recruit yelled at his human teammate. Autobot sensors scanned everything instantly, detecting only a minimal explosive charge. Bumblebee moved closer, ready to shield or grab his humans on the platform.

KASPLAT! KAWHOOSH!

Liquid cooking oil covered their section of the course in a yellow rain followed by a dusting of white flour powder. The Autobots on the course shuddered as the mess layered them. Both recruits snapped up and out, aiming their weapons and walking boldly forward. Jolt and Cliffjumper shook in their alt modes without dislodging their covering.

"We're safe," the recruit waved at the other. "Like shooting fish in a barrel," then twitched as Jolt's hood sparkled with energy. "Don't worry, it will miss."

Jolt released his electrical charge near their feet then groaned as the resultant heat baked the mixture onto his armor. Transforming, he watched them thrashing on the ground, downed but not disabled. Cliffjumper rolled forward, growling but staying in his alt mode.

::I thought hitting humans was forbidden:: Cliffjumper

::Hurting humans not hitting. Charge was lower than their stun taser:: Jolt. The buzzer sounded, ending the drill as both men sat up, shaking but returning to normal. Optimus strode towards them, a frown on his face plates and Major Lennox running alongside by his feet. Ratchet and Prowl followed with Sam and Mikeala being carried by Bumblebee.

"What the heck was that!" The Major yelled.

"We thought with their headlights and windshield covered with oil and flour they couldn't see us approaching," the first recruit explained. Bumblebee twittered a clip of surprise laughter as he sat his humans down. Prowl's black and white wing doors dropped straight down in shock before returning upright.

"Covering our headlights? Your hair really hides your lobotomy scars doesn't it?" Jolt said, scrubbing at the tan goo covering his arm plate. His normal blue paint was completely covered.

"Humans are limited to eyes, our optics are sensors but not our only perception focus," Ratchet stated, spraying a cleaning agent on Cliffjumper's alt mode.

"You were at my lecture," Mikeala growled, her white med coat moving in the gentle island breeze as she stalked closer. "I spent days putting it together and you ignored it! How stupid are you?"

"Smart enough to pick my own kind and not a zombie freak," he sneered.

Mikeala punched him, knocking him onto his back then pounced, swinging again as yellow green armored fingers pulled her off, holding gently but firmly. The man gagged, hands trying to staunch the blood flowing from his broken nose.

"Been around you too long Ironhide, react with violence when upset," Ratchet complained as she quieted in his grasp.

"So says the wrench thrower. She needs some of her own. Easier on her hands than punching," Ironhide answered back, both scanning her hand.

"You have proven a lack of responsibility," Optimus stated, his regal baritone harsh as he faced the recruits. "Careless disregard of our capabilities on the battlefield is unacceptable. You are both hereby dismissed from NEST."

"We're humans. You don't have that authority!" The first recruit yelled.

"Yes he does. Shared command or did you miss that lecture too?" Will asked then motioned for the MP's to escort them of the course. No bot or human offered medical aid.

Optimus faced Mikeala as she sat on Ratchet's arm, rubbing her knuckles. "Violence is not approved of and you are family to a Prime. Every action, every word or result directly reflects on all of us and me as Prime."

She bowed her head, dark hair falling forward to partially cover her blushing face.

" Having stated that, nice punch young lady," he congratulated, winking an optic at her.

_197. Do not_ _try to change human eating habits by sabotaging their equipment or cooking areas when they fail to comply with our requests. _*Ratchet, Red Alert, and Bumblebee.

"Unhealthy, salt laden, empty calorie, non-nutritional starch and chemicals masquerading as energy components," Ratchet grumbled, optics narrowed on the vending machines. A human approached and his internal medical systems screamed for him to interfere. Venting softly, he locked the program into standby to watch. "Sentient beings have the right to choose. We cannot control them," he mumbled, trying to be reasonable.

Prowl lowered his wing doors slightly, keeping them from twitching with amusement. "You destroy one more of their food dispensing devices and I will brig you." He warned in formal Cybertronian. The same rank as the medic, he resorted to the old formalities of their home world's customs.

"Worth it to protect them," Ratchet replied in the same Cybertronian. "Humans are short existence spanned now. Forget being creative about war, they are creative in ways to destroy themselves and enjoy the process."

The human ignored their clicking and chirping, intent on choosing. Ratchet's systems noted the man's pulse rate, his breathing and increasing salvia. Nearly shuddering, the medic watched him choose a cherry fruit pie. "The worst item in there," he groaned, fingers twitching to grab the human and haul him out to the nearest salad bar.

The metal ring spun, and then stopped, trapping the item half way out the slot. "Ah, man" the soldier groused. He kicked the machine twice, then grabbing it and trying to rock it. It never moved. He raised a fist to punch it.

"Stop!" Both mechs yelled in English.

"That's glass and shards will injure your fragile skin," Ratchet warned, taking a step closer with fingers twitching.

"Damage results in fines," Prowl reminded, ready to restrain Ratchet if necessary. He recognized the twitch as protective programming but knew the human would not appreciate being grabbed and hauled away and lectured about nutrition.

"Fine, I'll pick something else." the soldier considered the other choices. "Must be fate trying to get my attention." He slid the debit card again, choosing the baked multi grain low salt chips. Shrugging, he left with the bag.

"Did you see that? He chose healthy when it jammed!" Ratchet realized.

"Humans are irrational in their beliefs. Fate it was not. Spinning mechanism is in need of oiling and basic maintenance. I will forward the repair order," Prowl said.

"Let me," Ratchet interrupted, fingers shifting to tools.

"Why?" the security officer questioned.

"Relax, I promise to not take, alter or destroy one item of food. Or harm the machine in any fashion. I do not want to repair broken footpads or bent leg struts from human tempers. Moreover, if want to check, I have four requests to replace the glass fronts on these with our combat non-shattering mylnar plexi," Ratchet stated in Cybertronian, making it a formal oath. Prowl nodded, accepting the exact wording of the oath and left.

"I never promised to not alter the dispensing rings however. They will not be damaged just incapable of completing their turning when there is weight on them," he commented, removing the back of the vending machine.

Five food items were stuck halfway dispensed when a note was finally taped on the window. Nine more had to become jammed for anyone to notice the pattern of what was jamming. Prowl was not amused but agreed on the oath wording having been kept. He did comment about Jazz and his sneakiness affecting other command officers, especially after discovering his personal identifier call signal had been changed to PROWL - Prime's Really Official Workaholic Legalbot. Jazz was the one with the ability to access and he denied destroying Prowl's call signal but not to altering it.

Ratchet promised to never touch a vending machine again and kept that oath. He accessed the base ordering system with Jazz's help and chose only the healthiest foods for the next fifty orders and paid for them all in advance to guarantee regular delivery.

_198. Do not ask the humans, "Why do you destroy yourselves?" and short a processor unit when they answer:_

_a. I really thought I could beat the odds. Didn't know the odds would beat me. _

_b. The last years are the worse, who wants to live through them?_

_c. What waits after death is better than the pain it takes to get there. _

_d. I intend to slide into the grave worn out, used up and partied out. Then I can rest. _

_e. But it all tastes so good! Dieting is a slow death no matter how good you look. _

_f. I will drink to that! _

_g. Being rich does not guarantee happiness though a little more budgeting skills would be nice. Can I borrow twenty bucks again until payday? _

_h. Because patience is so overrated and temper only gets you brig time, and repairs in med bay and seeing the counselor and another anger management class and no close friends. Hmm, maybe time I tried something different after all. _

_i. Exercise leaves you hot, sweaty and sore. How is that an improvement over relaxing on a soft couch watching your favorite show? _

_j. I am single, no kids and no hobbies. What else can I enjoy? _

_k. The more of my behavior you accept the less there is to forgive later. _

_l. Why be like other humans when I'm stationed on a super secret military base surrounded by giant metal aliens?_

_m. Save the Decepticons the effort and the medical team the work after? _

_**Story Arc - **__**"Knowing where you are wanted" **__(part 6)_

"Wheeljack, can you hear me?" Moonracer asked, her blue armored hand outstretched but not touching his chest. The damaged outer plating was gone, new being made and the exposed wiring and components was unsettling.

Optics clicked open and focused on her. "What do you need repaired?

"You," she smiled at him, patting the small section of his undamaged shoulder armor. "I don't need, I want you functional and available."

"I thought you liked Ratchet," he asked, optics still dim with his lowered energy state. "I'm confused."

"What does my liking him have to do with anything?" She asked, keeping her temper in check. 'Chromia blows up then blows things up but I do slow burn and an injured mech did not need to be turned inside out. Not over a relationship, however faint and inconsistent it is with our resident grumpy medic,' she realized Wheeljack was watching her, confusion showing through his half-veiled features.

"No repairs, nothing personal, and you are not a medic so why?" He asked again.

"Because I care, oh! You dumb bot," she rapped his white helm lightly. "A femme can care without being interested in sparking or interfacing. Ever stick your nose plate out of your lab and you would know that. Ratchet never rests and it took four of us femmes, per Prime's orders to kidnap him back to his room. Elita blasted the security lock because he never learned the temporary code Prowl had set the day the room was assigned."

"Why not ask Prowl?"

"He's off base same as Hound, and several others. Optimus orders to rest. Your turn after you are back on your feet pads. Now recharge. I need to add energon and fluids to your system."

Wheeljack drifted into recharge and rested until soft higher pitched voices caught his attention breems later.

"I'm sorry Chromia. I know how bad you want one," Moonracer comforted, the pain and sympathy in her vocal tone clear. Soft sounds of another femme in distress triggered his protectiveness as an unbonded mech.

Wheeljack struggled against the medic restraint coding, unable to move. 'Cannot override, wait. Set on a timer if I know Ratchet.' The inventor scanned his system storage, finding a stored time application. 'Perfect," two changes and the software patch activated, flipping his recharge timer ahead by breems. Ratchet's medical settings read the time change and disengaged, allowing him full onlining. Keeping optics closed, he scanned the room, detecting Chromia and Moonracer sitting on the far medical berth.

Chromia sat hunched then vented roughly. "I was sure this time. Medically everything works but," she trailed off.

"It didn't," Moonracer finished. "You will have a sparkling and I haven't heard Ironhide complain about the attempts," she poked her best friend in the side.

'Sparkling?' Wheeljack faltered, trying to process the idea of Ironhide being a mech creator. Curious, he accessed the medical database, reviewing their files. 'Thank Primus Ratchet got tired of me asking about repair times to get back to my lab and allows me his access code. Hmm, nothing too different about either of them. Sheesh, Ironhide gets a lot of restructuring done. Any Decepticon not use him as a target? Chromia has an older spark spire configuration but functional. Hmm, a design tweak there, a change here to increase energy acceptance,' he began sketching out improvements, unaware of both femmes leaving. When satisfied, he uploaded the design onto the nearest medical console, adding a priority tag before slipping back into recharge.

He regained consciousness slowly, systems reporting repairs and a backlog of entries to complete. He vented softly at the length of the list, his smashed leg the worse.

"Wheeljack, why are you awake? Open those optics, I know you can hear me," Ratchet's deep vocal tone groused.

"Hi buddy," he chirped in Cybertronian.

"I had a timer set," he crossed his arms and glared.

"Uhm, the timer expired?"

"I'll expire you if you ever mess with my medical overrides again 'Jack," he warned, fingers transforming to a buzz saw and chest splitter prong.

The med bay doors slid open, revealing Sideswipe and Sunstreaker walking in their bi pedal modes.

"Good timing," Sideswipe joked upon seeing the tools displayed.

"Great as its not us you mean," Sunstreaker answered striding up to the mechs. "I need four weapon repairs and two upgrades from our resident inventor. Feeling better?"

"I was," Wheeljack muttered, not ready to work with the twins yet.

"Do visiting hours mean anything to you two?" Ratchet challenged, transforming his hands back to his normal fingers.

"Yah, we're not visiting, we live here. When not in the brig or doing a prank,check for us in med bay," Sideswipe said.

"And he's family. You visit acquaintances or friends but family you stay with!" the yellow twin stated as if it should have been obvious.

"I'm family? I'm a civilian," Wheeljack reminded.

"Every family has its black sheep bot," Sunstreaker sighed mournfully, pretending to pout.

"Why we would not want you?" Ratchet asked, touching his arm gently. His blue optics spun once then steadied.

"Keep that up and I'll tell Moonracer you are cheating on her. Or were you planning a threesome?" Sideswipe said, his red face plates smirking.

CLANG!

Ratchet followed up the thrown wrench with yelling. "Get your fragging processors out of the pit! You thick chipped junk pile glitches! I'll threesome weld you both to the flagpole on the quad!" He chased them out the doors and down the hallway, metal clangs and yelling echoing back all the way. Wheeljack snickered then slipped into recharge, content he was safe and home.

Two hours later, Silverblade stretched and rose silently onto her feet pads. A quick glance showed the mech she had been sitting by still deep in recharge and the energon line steadily replenishing him. 'Waiting in med bay is boring. Better than having Ratchet here but boring.' She noticed the pending report on the nearer console. Curious, she activated the file and read it. "Upgrades to older spark chambers, hmm. Mine is older than that. Nothing too major. Done my own repairs for vorns before landing here and a good way to kill the time." Keying in commands, the auto drones began making the necessary parts in the adjoining room. When finished, Silverbolt retrieved them.

'Lock the doors in case of unexpected visitors. This hour every bot should be in recharge.' The clicks of the door locks reassured her of privacy. Entering the attached wash room, she vented deeply then focused, her chest armor responding to the silent commands. With a whirring of gears and clicks, the center split and separated, sliding over and up to her shoulder plating. The white light of her spark flared in the reflective mirror. 'First, replace this connection,' she began the work.

_To be continued…._


	62. Chapter 62 There is always a choice pt 1

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. I struggled with this chapter a bit. More war driven than light human interaction. Thanks to Lunaeshark for rule # 196, specifically #8. And thanks to fantasyaddiyt101 Rule #183 a., b., c. the Transformers are alien robots yet like us in some ways so I hazarded a guess not all mechs want a sparkling instead of fighting.

This fic is closer to One Thousand Reviews! For those faithful readers wanting to help, you can go back and see what chapters you have not reviewed, mostly the first five or six, others scattered throughout and review any missed. Or not, completely up to you. As always thank you for your laughter and kind words and suggestions. Onward to making bad choices but not falling into the trap you have no power to change the ending. There is always a choice.

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_220. Do not lose hope when captured by either Decepticons or humans. Rescue can come from the unlikeliest of bots or humans in ways you cannot imagine._

The village in the valley below was scenic but unaware of the terrible fight that had played out on the mountainside above. Even if they had witnessed it, they would not have understood the aliens fighting it out. The cracked trees of the forest bore silent witness to their strength as the spilled fluids and broken parts to its intensity.

"Any sign of Autobots?" Skywarp demanded, his gaze skyward. The Decepticon seeker's wings bore a deep laser burn and dents.

::Negative. All clear:: Laserbeak sent from above, soaring on anti grav flight instead of the wind.

"Then get. I got this one handled," Skywarp motioned, watching the red and gold cassette warrior fly away. "Pit spawned watcher. You'll not be gathering info on me for blackmail." Red blazing optics focused on the downed Autobot as he calculated the best way to force him out of stasis. "Guard the prisoner until I return' Starscream tells me. Hah! Probably brag it was all his doing we got Prime's second in command. I blast, fight and throw him off the cliff and who gets the credit? Screamer. Too lazy a slag to help move this trash." He targeted the village below, far sensors locking on and off moving humans to stave off boredom.

Behind him, Prowl shuddered, medical protocols trying to stem the pain. 'Blasted 'Cons,' he swore, pulling his metal wrists against the restraints. Optics closed, he fought inside and out to gain control. 'You are a prisoner but not helpless. How many times have you heard Ironhide lecture on that?' Thrown on his side, his broken wing door sagged on the dirt, the other shredded but attached. The wing doors were his one vanity. The way they reflected his moods, the movement of them at different angles over his shoulders and head. 'And my greatest weakness,' he flinched, controlling his venting least he alert Skywarp to being online.

'When will I learn? Optimus said take a femme or mech but no, I go alone. Ironhide will have my aft bracing for this. Make a swing set for Annabelle out of my chassis.'

_Self –repair offline. Distress signal disabled. Tracking signal disabled. Prime link online but jammed. Energon decreased by 14.1245678 percent and continuing. Probability of stasis lock in one joor is 98%._

' Get free or losing more armor will be the last of your worries,' he processed then went still as he heard hydraulics shifting and moving. A metal foot nudged his damaged wing doors, sending ripples of fresh pain coding into his processors.

"Lay off," a new mech voice commanded.

Prowl opened his optics to see Thundercracker and another smaller mech. 'I know him but memory cores are fluctuating.' Two more Decepticon mechs approached, Scourge and Blitzwing, glancing at him then looking away. The small mech stared at Prowl, the sneer on his face plates evident.

Thundercracker crouched down, reaching but not touching Prowl before facing Skywarp again. "Megatron wants this junk pile for questioning immediately. We're to transport his sorry aft as is."

"No interrogating on the way?" Skywarp asked.

A harsh laugh came from Thundercracker. "And deprive Lord Megatron of it? Not on your spark. I intend to watch, not be the next victim. Starscream already fragged him off. I'd stay quiet and clear for a joor if you know what I mean," he sneered, his attitude and tone showing he cared less what had happened.

"Starscream deserves what he gets. No plating off my jets. I'll fly surveillance for any other Autobots then report in." Skywarp transformed, rocketing away with careless disregard for the mechs standing there. The backwash had them covering optics and ducking from the kicked up debris.

"Move him," Thundercracker ordered. Metal hands lifted Prowl, the pain nearly sending him offline as he was shifted onto his back, wing doors hanging. They carried him deeper in the forest, barely able to negotiate between the trees. None spoke, leaving him to ponder his fate. First clearing, they rotated him onto his side, lowering him down on the ground while talking.

"Wonder why anybot would want him," Scourge commented, adjusting his grip to match the angle of the others.

"His systems contain important information," Blitzwing stated, pointing one claw towards the glyph of his rank engraved below his name and red Autobot Logo on his chest.

"Like rules against changing our holographic drivers into fun stuff? Or who pulled the last prank? Hi Prowl," Thundercracker greeted, kneeling by his head. The seeker's image shifted to a blurry hologram glimmer before disappearing to reveal Hound. The green Autobot snapped the restraints off, rolling Prowl gently onto his front. "Enabling pain blocks now. Arcee, reboot his self repair. Cliffjumper, Bumblebee get the nannites ready. Soon as I move, throw them on."

Prowl's optics misted over as his captors' holograms dropped to reveal his teammates. "You followed me?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Hound chided while applying another pain lock. "I was chasing down... err scouting after a certain femme when my sensors detected Starscream overhead, flying low and dipping his wings. Meaning he was in a good mood and that means one of us in trouble. Accessed our last known signals and yours was off the grid. Called for backup and went looking."

"Finding you was the easy part. Explaining to Ratchet what happened is your problem," Arcee chirped.

"Why?" the officer mumbled, relaxing under their care.

"He alerted half a joor ago not to disturb him, Chromia or Ironhide for anything short of offlining or major injuries. Working on a special project together in med bay. And wing doors are a snag to fix," she explained. He barely winced before slipping into recharge.

_201. Do not use time in med bay for anything other than to recover, get repairs and reset your systems. No work for Prowl, no designing for Wheeljack, no commanding by Prime and no mischief for the twins. Ratchet can repair new injuries like wrench dents alongside of older battle marks._

Prowl came out of recharge to hearing familiar voices arguing.

"Are you off your processor chips? It's an improvement 'Jack but you overdid the power settings. Any bot with that configuration will over spark first time and every time!" Ratchet's deep vocal tone yelled.

"Then it works! They are trying for a sparkling right?" Wheeljack's higher tone sounded irritated.

"Point. But you could have waited for me to verify before making and installing the parts."

"I didn't. The design file is still waiting, check the monitor. My leg is being repaired and I haven't left this berth," the inventor sounded as tired as he felt.

Prowl opened his optics, seeing only the white wall of med bay straight ahead. 'Needs decoration,' he fuzzily processed, rotating his head to the side. He was prone on his front, padded blocks keeping his chassis immobile. Wheeljack lay on the next medical berth on his side, his armored arms gesturing at Ratchet's yellow green form.

The medic's blue optics focused as Prowl tried to reach for the nearby datapad.

"No moving!" A silver wrench hit the datapad, sending it flying off the stand. "And no working you." The medic disappeared out of view, heading out and around Wheeljack's med berth then his yellow green chassis filled his vision. Firm hands adjusted his head back straight forward. "Your wing doors are off and your back plates removed. The wiring and neuron spine is exposed. Had to let the welding cool and set before the next step. Do not move. I'm going to retrigger recharge for another two joors." Tapping at his neck port by Ratchet was gentle as he reset the recharge timer.

"Need anything for later Prowl?" Wheeljack' voice drifted over.

"No sparkling. Too much work," he murmured, slipping into recharge.

"Did he say 'too much work?'" Wheeljack quoted in disbelief.

"Yes and he's fine 'Jack. Once I lay the neuron lines, the wing doors themselves are easy to attach. Rest will be resetting his internal connections and keeping him from diving into his rules and workload," the medic continued his monitoring of both patients even as he brought up the spark spire design.

"You would make a great sparkling sitter," Wheeljack commented thoughtfully, his side bars flashing blue and green colors.

"What the frag do you think I do in med bay now?" Ratchet grumbled, stalking off to the parts room.

_183. When a human asks, "Is it true that one of your femmes is expecting a sparkling?" do not answer:_

_a. Who told you?! _

_b. Yes, I am expecting. *_Sunny, Sides or any mech. Humans are confused enough now about our genders, do not add to it.

_c. Frag, it was supposed to be a surprise. _*Chromia

_d. One of our femmes, is there another type of femme? _*Prowl

_e. Certainly not expecting a fleshling! _*Elita1

_f. Femmes won't say, ask her mech but make sure it's only her mech. Other mechs will be offended and you will only ask wrong one time. _*Ironhide

_g. Expecting isn't the right word for our race, more like miracle at this point._

_h. Femme? No, I know Mikeala is. Hmm, she is adopted so she is a femme technically. _*Bumblebee

_I. Our femme unless the Decepticons have a femme._

_j. Loose lips sink ships. _

_k. Hmm, missed that memo at the last meeting. _

_l. Why? You cannot adopt and one time of changing its tanks and you would run screaming from the building! _

_m. Hey girls, another volunteer for sparkling sitter! _

_n. Do I look like a medic? Ask Ratchet. _*Ironhide

_o. Do I look in charge? Ask Prime. _*Ratchet

_p. Do I look like a femme? Ask the femme commander. *_Optimus Prime

_q. What business is it of yours? *_Elita

_**Story arc – Choices create situations but Not End Results (pt 1)**_

The NEST base at Diego Garcia was quieting, activities winding down with the approaching night. Ultra Magnus watched the setting sun, finally understanding his bond brother's fascination with the colors of it over the darkening ocean waves. A femme walked further down the beach. "Silverblade," he identified. The data file on her weapons capabilities, general background and history scrolled by but briefly. "Strange, not much there. Older than me or Prime but younger than Ironhide and Wheeljack. Few weapons though upgrades are possible." His system took her image down to the bare protoform, displaying possible combat additions and he stopped the program. Her silver protoform faced him, the barest trace of a smile on her faceplates.

His spark twitched as he continued to stare. 'She reminds me of another femme. Not sure who,' he processed. Focusing outward, his optics locked on her standing on the sandy beach. Head down, not even looking at the sunset and arms folded across her chest plates. His warrior function noted her easy targeting in the faint light and lack of situational awareness while his command side thought of relaying a request to Ratchet or Prowl for a mental health review. His mech processors wanted to comfort her, wrapping his massive arms around her smaller frame to feel the beat of her spark.

Blinking in confusion, he twitched, caught by the sheer strength for his feeling towards a femme he had not even talked with. His spark flared as though reaching her direction. "Get a grip soldier! Femme magnet is Optimus' job not yours. She's not even under your command," triggered the thought their relationship would not be obstructed by any rules.

Further up the beach, Silverblade heard her name called, turning back towards the main paths. A mech stood there, holding out his arm for her.

::Be right there: Silverblade sent to him, unaware Ultra Magnus watched her every astro second all the way back to the main hangar area. She and the other mech turned towards the Autobot's personal quarters and he ended his infrared tracking from the beach.

Ultra Magnus strode towards the airstrip, ready to change patrol shifts with Hound, the image of her protoform still in his main systems.

At precisely 05:45 am local time, Ultra Magnus ended his shift and traded out with Jazz. The briefest thought of asking Silverblade to join him for morning energon flitted through his processors. It was suppressed and the list of which bot was off base under Prime's orders to rest and their estimated return time scrolled by instead.

In the Autobot's private quarters, Silverblade's chest was open as the mech confirmed what her medical systems were telling her.

"A secondary spark? How the frag did that happen?" He yelped, backing up from her on the recharge berth.

"Mechanics 101 mech. Two of us, light energy, open chest plates. What?" She asked, sliding her spark spire closed then the overlay of military grade protective chest armor.

"A new life after all this time. I don't know what to do or say," he mumbled, his optics blinking rapidly.

"Me either," she agreed, a feeling of total happiness settling across her processors.

"I mean, I don't want it. You keep it as a femme. I'm a warrior and need to fight the Decepticons. Until they are gone it's not safe."

"Meaning?" she prodded verbally, her spark feeling like it was sinking to her feet pads.

"I won't acknowledge it but I'm sure every other bot here, especially Arcee and Elita will help. We raised Bumblebee without any femme on the Artemis and he is fully functional."

"No claim?" She asked, her optics narrowing dangerously.

"No. We're not spark mated," he shrugged. "Not a problem. We've sparked two times and interfaced three. Hardly an enduring relationship. I was going to mention this anyway. I'm returning to Cybertron. Earth is too alien and there are too many rules here around the humans. Decepticons are the reason I fight and we need Cybertron back. I never answered Prime's call to the stars. Came same way you did. The Allspark jump. Earth is safer for you. The sparkling can be your clan and family alone."

"Yes, alone," Silverblade stated, watching him turn and leave the room. Processors running scenarios over and over she headed for the energon storage. The sun continued rising, its golden light pouring across the base. Silverblade stopped, seeing her shadow on the wall, imagining a smaller version standing by her feet. 'I can't do this alone,' she crumpled by the outer storage warehouse, folding her hands over her knees. "What do I do? Optimus told me to hide my past and now this? Great way to draw attention to myself.' The gentlest touch on her arm plate had her optics looking up into Bumblebee's concerned face.

::Hurt? Need help? I am here:: Bumblebee. They were the exact words and compassion she needed.

"No, not hurt. Not physically," she mumbled then vented, leaning back against the wall. "I need help but not medically."

:: Lieutenant Bumblebee, scout and Guardian at your command:: Bumblebee sent cheerfully, half bowing. ::I keep secrets. All scouts do::

In a breem, her tale was told and he had vented hard, furious and upset at the very idea.

"How do I face Ratchet? He scares me," Silverblade admitted quietly.

::He scares every bot, even Ironhide. We can borrow the sparkling protoform, ask him to check it later?:: Bumblebee asked, now sitting in front of her.

"I'm not sure I can handle transferring the sparkling alone."

::I will be there. We both upload the medical protocols out of the database and have comm link to Ratchet on standby. He can move fast. How do you think he catches us for medical exams?:: Bumblebee

_To be continued…_


	63. Chapter 63 There is always a choice pt 2

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Chapter after chapter as the plot is written and coming together. Also working on a one shot fic on Silverblade and the time right before she picked the mech. Not sure when I will be able to get that posted.

Thanks to reader Lord Destroyer for the idea of Rule # 204 and many of the entries contained in that rule. I love working with other writers and readers. Makes the site better when we all share. And as much as everyone likes the warriors, I still tend to favor the scouts. Hound and Bumblebee even though my favorite mech is Prowl. Bet you hadn't noticed. :) Onward to next steps and wherever they may lead.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR

_197. Do not involve other bots in your pranks when they are unwilling or unsuspecting. You are in enough trouble when caught without risking a friendship over it. The victim of the prank and their revenge is another matter and another rule. _

Wheeljack perched on the metal stool, hands intent on the half assembled squares he was wiring together. His worktable was covered in multicolor wires, ting cogs and gears, mini hydraulics and micro chips. The red light on his wall began flashing, indicating visitors. Annoyed, he glanced at the door as Sideswipe and Sunstreaker entered, sliding to a stop at seeing him.

"What are you doing out of med bay?" Sideswipe verbally jumped him, pointing at the bare metal framework that was Wheeljack's left leg.

"Ratchet kicked me out to concentrate on Prowl and Ironhide. Why are you here, in my lab?" his sidebars flashed curiosity colors.

"To borrow some tools," Sunstreaker answered, folding his hands behind his yellow plated back, not meeting the inventor's optics directly.

"Borrow means you return. And I don't want to know. If I don't know I won't have to lie later. Get what you need and leave quietly please. I need to concentrate on this sparkling protoform. The work is very delicate." His bars flashed deep orange of irritation.

"Sparkling as in baby bot?" Sideswipe stuttered, red armored arms pantomiming a small shape.

"Is there any other?" the inventor retorted, returning to his work.

"How about you…" Sunstreaker began.

"No."

"You don't even know what I was proposing," Sunstreaker pouted.

He pointed to the wall, saying "Read number three please."

Both twins leaned in to peer at the oversize document encased in an unbreakable shield.

_Wheeljack's Lab Rule # 3 – When making an invention, do not tell the others about it until finished. They will offer helpful suggestions and create confusion to the point you forget what you are making and why. _

"A rule list?" Sideswipe blinked, optics spinning. "I knew it! Ratchet glitched and mixed your and Prowl's logic programming!" He looked horrified at Wheeljack then his entire chassis went still.

"Sides?" Sunstreaker asked, leaning towards his red twin. "Talk to me 'bro. What are you processing?"

"What if Prowl downloaded his intelligence and inventor ability? Made the brig impossible to escape?" he whispered.

"Do we escape it now?" he smacked the back of his brother's helm.

"Only if we run fast enough far enough. Good point," he rubbed his helm. "Later Wheeljack, have a prank…err counseling session to finish," he stated, transforming and backing out of the lab before roaring down the hallway. His twin followed, disappearing as quickly. Wheeljack stared after them thoughtfully.

"Wonder if they took the first protoform we built? Ratchet swears he didn't lose it; Ironhide and Chromia don't need it yet. It's useless to humans without a spark so where did it go?"

_204. Do not become unduly upset when a human asks if it's possible to build them a human driven robot based on our protoform or transform. Remind them sharing advanced technology is forbidden by the treaty and do not respond by saying:_

_a. What, are we not good enough for you? Don't want us around anymore, isn't that it?_

_b. Isn't your species dangerous enough already without such a thing?_

_c. You trying to start something here?! I'll tear you apart for asking me that! *Ironhide_

_d. Like you could figure out how to turn it on, let alone fight with it. Really? Figured out all the buttons on the TV remote that you use daily? Or did you lose it in the couch again?_

_e. Why waste time on something that will fall apart in less than five of your minutes built by the lowest contractor after how many endless delays and court battles to build it in the first place?_

_f. And where would you get the technology for the helmet that's the other half of the control...oh no you don't, you are not dissecting me for that!_

_g. And let you get claustrophobic once it transforms into its robot mode? I think not._

_h. Your race is not ready for such advanced toys...I mean weapons._

_i. Stand there blinking, then burst out laughing, saying it was a 'good joke.'_

_j. Of course, but it'll take a few centuries to get it right, give or take a decade or two. _*Wheeljack

_k. You watch way too many cartoons and science fiction shows._

_l. Are you nuts? If you develop it, the other nations around the world will want them too, and that would lead to a whole new arms race on this planet. Didn't your species go through that already?_

_m. I'll want royalties once they're off the assembly line._

_n. And what would you fuel it with? Talk about sky high gas prices._

_o. If you get maimed or killed by that thing, then be my guest. I've already got a bet going on when your species would ask for that. Now that it's closed, I've got a new bet going, and that's on your chance of survival with one of those things. Oh, by the way Ratchet owes me big time. You might want to avoid him for awhile._

_198. Do not speak of a private matter in a public area. The humans are overly curious and consider no topic or area off limits, even when marked with red and black tape, electrical voltage current signs and a_ _do not touch_ _sign. (Proven by nine humans shocking themselves out cold on Volt's energy whip the twins stole and left in the middle of the lunchroom, labeled with the above warnings.)_

Outside the human guest quarters, Sam blushed bright red as Annabelle laughed. "Chromia is carrying a spark," the little girl repeated as he cringed. His sandwich on the picnic table was forgotten as he reached for the paper towels to mop up the spilled soda. Righting the aluminum can he pretended to glare.

"Well, she is!" Annabelle huffed, her blonde ponytail bobbing across her back. She moved her dish of macaroni and cheese, watching Sam try to stop the path of sugary soda spreading her direction.

He made a shushing gesture, reaching across to hold his hand in front of her lips. "I know. Saw the glyphs. How did you?"he whispered.

"Felt it in my head. Teeny tiny echo of her when she hugged Ironhide while he was holding me at breakfast. But I didn't say. I think it's supposed to be a surprise," the little girl admitted.

"You can feel the Transformers too?"

She nodded once up and down. He sighed, a distant look on his face as he sat back down. "Two Primes. Hero and sidekick," he ruffled her hair.

"Sam, you're more than a sidekick. You're my friend," she said seriously, blue eyes twinkling.

"Right. I'm older and was Prime first you know," he countered, scooping the soggy paper towels into his brown lunch bag.

"Ironhide is older than Optimus but he's Prime and Ratchet orders them both when hurt. And you. Even Bumblebee gives you a bubble bath when you need it," she teased, taking a mouthful of the macaroni and cheese.

He groaned at the thought of that photo. "I was trying to make it hard for him giving a bath because he was a handful, when little like you, and Ironhide tried giving him a bath."

"I like my pool and my castle. Can we give the sparkling a bath once it's born?"Annabelle asked.

"Sure. But until they tell us, it has to stay a secret," Sam cautioned.

"I'm good at keeping secrets," she smiled. "Lots and lots of secrets."

_**Story arc – Choices create situations but Not End Results (pt 1)**_

Silverblade held the sparkling close to her chest plates, reveling in the tiny blue optics that peered innocently upward. Bumblebee dangled the mini disco ball in front of her, causing the reflecting light to spin everywhere.

'Not sure who is more entertained, him or her,' she processed, wishing for the hundredth time he had been the mech creator. Her recharge timer beeped, signaling the seventh time delay was up.

::I will watch:: Bumblebee sent, reaching one hand out slowly. ::You need to rest::

"I will," she vented softly, her entire frame faintly wobbling as she shifted. "I was lying down to recharge when the distress call came in, fought against the drones then helped mop up and deal with the humans. We returned about the time you appeared in my quarters to transfer the spark."

::You should not have gone into battle carrying a spark:: Bumblebee grumped, wriggling a yellow metal finger at her.

"It was protected next to my spark spires. It would have survived even if I offlined from anything but a direct spark strike," she reminded, arching her eye plates.

::Sparkling needs its femme creator. And you are my friend. I do not want to see you hurt:: Bumblebee

She didn't answer, wondering why she hadn't picked him instead of the mech she had. Any other mech, even Ratchet or Prowl would have done. "Slag I am tired, thinking of them. Recharge and comm you later. Protect her," she said, transferring the little femme to his armored arms. The sparkling clicked, snuggling in his warm hands as he held it. Silverblade closed the outer door, leaving them alone. It took an hour for the sparkling to recharge and him to relax while holding it. 'So tiny. Was I this small?'

As a scout, Bumblebee detected and registered what other mechs missed. His entire existence depended on being able to blend in and react instantly to avoid detection. The squeak of the door opening caught him unawares but not unprepared. His programming triggered, transforming his right arm into the double barrel plasma cannon, bringing it online over the sparkling. His chassis turned, feet pads locking in as the weapon shielded the fragile life against his chest. Jamming frequencies triggered, pulling dangerously on his power level but rendering his presence virtually invisible to all known systems. With a click, the battle mask snapped down as targeting guides locked on the dark shape.

Ironhide froze. 'What the pit?' he processed, own systems responding but not firing. Redundant safeties identified the little mech as friendly then frizzed as jammers engaged.

::Did you locate Bumblebee?:: Optimus

::Not now Prime. He's targeting me!:: Ironhide sent then opened the interlink, allowing Optimus to watch through his optics. 'Fragging jammers hit my systems. Can't get a guidance lock. A wrong blast could offline or cripple his processors. Have to trace the crossfire back. My armor can take the hit but this will hurt,' the ancient weapons mech remained still.

Bumblebee's arm cannon end glowed blue as his optics flickered with red inside the battle mask. A soft clicking sound seemed to focus him. He straightened, arm cannon disengaging slowly as his battle mask flipped up and back.

Ironhide remained where he was, audio sensors detecting Optimus' distinct pad pattern coming rapidly closer. He had trained Bumblebee and knew his weapon would engage in the fraction of an astro second if threatened. ::Kid, talk to me. Whatever it is we can do this together:: Ironhide

Bumblebee's optics returned solid blue but his body remained turned, hands tucked up tight. ::You cannot help this:: he answered, severing the link. Wincing, he realized his embarrassment and shock at being caught off guard transferred with the words but not the reason why. Ironhide vented rapidly as his protective programming surged higher.

::He's upset and locked out my comm signal. I can't get a read on his operating systems through his jamming. Any help here?:: Ironhide

::Stay where you are:: Optimus disengaged the interlink as he strode into view. One step and he was in front of the warrior mech despite his warning gasp. ::Bumblebee? I'm here to help:: Optimus transmitted as he concentrated on feelings of love and protection.

Bumblebee looked up and vented rapidly. 'Primus help me. Bad enough Ironhide but not Optimus too.' Yellow armored hands continued to hide the tiny shape as he forced panic down. He resonated with distress, shame and a mix of emotions too rapid to comprehend. 'It's not my place to explain and Silverblade would never forgive me if I betray her secret,' he processed rapidly, trying to stall by not answering.

"Are you hurt? Spark problems again?" Optimus asked, sliding one step closer without engaging any weapons or protective systems. All he wanted was to hold the little mech close and fix whatever was wrong, but first he had to reach him.

::Status? I'm almost there with backup:: Ratchet

::Busy. Get back to you:: Ironhide

Bumblebee shook his head no, moving slowly backwards until he butted up against the wall. 'No chance to hide her, unless I get clear a short distance. Maybe claim a processing error and apologize later? Sorry, didn't recognize you or I thought we were playing hide and seek ?' his wide optics searched for an escape route. Proximity sensors detected Ratchet coming from the east and the twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker from the west. The walls were solid and blasting through would take too long. The roof was out unless he suddenly changed into a seeker and the concrete floor rested on solid bedrock. Ironhide and Optimus were between him and the only door. He sagged, realizing there was no way out without risking the little one or his family.

Optimus strode forward, arms ready to catch, fearing the little mech would collapse or glitch as the jamming signal abruptly disappeared. The last thing he expected was the mini bot to make coo sounds and hold out his hands, revealing a sparkling protoform. Its tiny mouth made clicking sounds as it announced its hunger.

::I did not mean to threaten. I was scared and reacted:: Bumblebee sent, avoiding the concerned optics above him.

::What, how did?:: Ironhide sputtered, optics glazing over at the scene presented.

::Explanations later lug head:: Ratchet pushed by, multi faceted eyes spinning as medical scans were run at all levels. ::Functional and hungry. Newly sparked, not even an orn old, few breems at most::

::Femme creator?:: Optimus sent, making no sudden moves as the youngling returned to cradling the tiny protoform.

::Ask him. I can scan them all and find out but if she did not ask for help, there had to be a reason. Once the spark is in a shell, there is no trace on the femme except in her memory core of which mech she was with and when she realized the spark was there. Least she was smart enough to let him guard it rather than leave it alone:: Ratchet shrugged, intent on the tiny form he and Wheeljack had built and now online.

Optimus struggled for internal balance, processors running hundreds of variations on what to do or say. None of his command would dare think of forcing a femme though several would not welcome the responsibility of a sparkling. He knew Bumblebee was not the mech creator or he would have been yelling it across every comm line. 'Who was the femme? Not a spark mated one but where was she? And the mech, did he know? Why no announcement or acknowledgment of the new life? How had Bumblebee found out when Ironhide and he didn't know? Had he failed as Prime? Why were his mechs refusing their responsibilities? Would it spread to the battlefield? Would the humans be endangered? Why hadn't the femme confided in Elita if not to him? And how would he fix this?'

::I promised femme to protect and help. I need your help. Do not know what to do:: Bumblebee sent, finally looking up as the other mechs surrounded him. The sparkling made more urgent clicking sounds.

"And help we shall. Wheeljack still has your bottle design and schematics for the proper energon mixture. The rest we will handle as it comes, agreed?" Optimus asked.

_To be continued…_


	64. Chapter 64 There is always a choice pt 3

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Per the voting poll on my profile page, people want more Sam, Mikeala, Bumblebee and Wheelie. Will try and work them in more in future chapters. The sector seven quote is from tf wiki. And to answer a question from many readers, Bumblebee will NOT pair with Silverblade. She is too old, too experienced and not his type. He needs a young femme about his height that has his love of life and humans. Keep reading for other plot twists and adventures however.

Thanks and credit to ladyofdarkstar for the character Lydia DeMarco from her fic "What Comes Around," a great fic. Onward to fun with what life throws your way.

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In the Autobot med bay, Prowl read the next datapad entry in disbelief. "Twins again. Though this is not funny. _Two f_e_mmes trying for a sparkling, request supplies and time for project._ Looks legitimate. Better warn Ratchet they are copying his encoding on medical reports. No end to the disaster they could create with his records. I'm going to assign those twins salvage scrap duty for an orn for this." Prone on his front, the second in command had one arm hanging below the medical berth edge, holding a datapad in the air to read it. His audio sensors were attuned to the hallway, alert for any bot approaching. The padded blocks kept his chassis from moving as the welds continued to set, in preparation for wing doors reattachment.

::Prowl to Ratchet. Twins are at it again. Faked you and a request to build a sparkling shell:: Prowl

::It's not a joke. I'm building a sparkling protoform for Ironhide and Chromia right now in Wheeljack's lab:: Ratchet

::Are you really Ratchet? Half of my recognition software is fried. Prove it:: Prowl challenged

::I've flunked my psych exam twice for being too intense and threatened to tell Optimus about you and Valerious Seven:: Ratchet answered, his mental tone smug.

::Identity confirmed! The exam data is still missing:: Prowl said, flushing his systems with cooling agent. ::Request states two femmes without naming which femmes. Who and with who?::

::They both sparked with their mechs but only Chromia's system registered the charge acceptance:: Ratchet blandly stated.

::How did Prime handle the news?:: Prowl

::Disappointed:: Ratchet

::Why?:: Prowl asked as a thousand options flittered through his logic processor without providing a logical reason.

::The non-bearing femme was Elita. They started trying before the other couple:: Ratchet

::Oh:: Prowl

::You're not working are you? And how did you know about the medical request? Do you have a datapad? I'm going to have Ultra Magnus and Jazz check on you later:: Ratchet

::Why them?:: Prowl

::Jazz will find anything you try to hide being an ex-thief and Ultra Magnus is strong enough to take the datapad out of even your death grip. You are fanatical about rules except obeying the one to rest:: Ratchet

Prowl disconnected the comm line without answering, swearing softly as he sub spaced the datapad back against his leg catch.

_195. Ten things you never want to ask a Transformer: _

_1. After he complained, "Is this repair really necessary?" Ratchet did what to Ironhide?_

_2. Sideswipe? Why is there a fire hydrant wedged in the center of your front bumper? Was Annabelle driving again? _

_3. Are you sure Elita asked to borrow the ships anchor then asked if anyone had seen Optimus lately? I thought she was still mad at him._

_4. Why are you missing your tires?_

_5. Blades, the rescue helicopter transform and Air Raid, an Aerialbot were trying to see how close they could come to the ground when who rolled up and began his transform?_

_6. Why is the Dinobot Grimlock wearing a saddle and reins?_

_7. You let Wheeljack enhance the femme's spark chambers to create sparklings without testing the design first?_

_8. Did you inform Sarah Lennox about cold affecting Transformers? _

_9. Did know Bumblebee is the sparkling of Optimus Prime when you verbally insulted his creators before tackling and fighting with him? _

_10. Why would I accept a bribe of ten thousand Cybertronian credit to not report this? _

_196. Ten things you never want a Transformer to say to a human:_

_1. Stuff that fruit pie in your mouth and hide! Ratchet is coming. *They will choke and make a mess_

_2. Wait, that wasn't a human I just stepped on was it?_

_3. Quick, hide me from Elita One! _*Optimus Prime

_4. That is not a Cybertronian clock, that is the countdown to the Decepticon bomb going off. RUN! _

_5. Get another crowbar or a slagging crane if necessary! They're still wedged together! Hang on Blades, we'll get you out of Ultra Magnus grill yet._

_6. Have you seen any of our datapads? They are all missing. Wait, have you seen the twins or Prowl?_

_7. Hide me from the femmes! They're all spark happy!_

_8. What do you mean you let Sarah borrow a tank of liquid nitrogen?_

_9. The human femme that slapped you, for that comment, was the hologram of Chromia. And we never forget. _

_10. Why is every rescue and fire vehicle heading towards Wheeljack's lab?_

_203. Do not close your processors to defining human existence into narrow categories. They are an unpredictable race and capable of changing and learning. _

"He is type number three," Major Will Lennox muttered under his breath as the new committee spokesperson arrived. A late night discussion with Ratchet, Wheeljack and Hound had resulted in the five views chart, now the subject of betting against all new staff and visitors. "Type one, the Transformers are mechanical robots with no emotions, intelligence or feelings and treat them like a toaster. Command them then be offended when they refuse unreasonable or dangerous demands."

"Type two, they are metal humans who drink, party and might carry off our daughters so watch them carefully. They have all our faults and none of our virtues. We must control them because big people create big problems. Former Director Galloway, assigned by president Obama, believed that. 'Take your assets back to base with you,' Will mimicked him then smirked, remembering his scream as the chute dragged him from the plane. "His only good point had been to make Sector Seven look competent by his actions."

Will controlled his smile as the spokesperson in front of him struggled to get the oversize briefcase out of the car trunk. His assistant was removing white file boxes from the back seat. Neither had passed through the base gates, confirming their right to be on base and he could not exit the gates to greet them until cleared.

"Type three. They are alien monsters from the movies that are secretly plotting to take over the earth. Use them but prepare for the day they betray our trust and try to take over. Like they want our messes, petty scrabbles and problems. One day in the UN and every Transformer would rocket back to space. Playing tag in an asteroid belt would be easier than navigating our political situations and bureaucracy," Will complained. The spokesperson closed the trunk, catching the edge of his black tie and had to fumble for keys in his pants pocket to unlock it again.

"Type four would have been better. You are alien and strange but I will act normal until I no longer have to deal with you and maybe if lucky be a footnote in my memoir that will be a boring forgotten waste of paper instead of a bestseller." The man freed himself and headed his direction, squinting in the bright afternoon sun of Diego Garcia. The assistant trailed behind, struggling with the weight of the files.

"Last type, people like me, Sam and Mikeala. Humans who gave them a chance to be what they are, accepting and becoming friends and even family. Moreover, grateful for the sacrifices they have made. Jetfire, Jazz and whoever is next. " The men cleared the checkpoint, their papers in order.

"Major Lennox, this is my boss Mr. Capri," the assistant began. They exchanged greetings, and then proceeded across the tarmac. "We have questions about the validity of this operation. The most advanced technology there is and we are denied access to it. Your battles have come down to dropping bombs on the enemy and shooting at the enemy from the ground with hand held guns."

Will kept the smile upon his face while he was seething inside. "I assure you, we are not in the stone age around here." The man's eyes went big as a steady thump thump sound echoed. Will face palmed as Grimlock ran between the building in his Tyrannosaurus Rex alt mode.

"You signed the confidentially agreement and were briefed on the Transformers correct? As well as the medical and mental health releases?" Will asked.

"Yes, I did," he answered, his assistant hiding behind him. "What is he doing?"

Will watched the red and yellow metal dinosaur lifting up trash dumpsters and peering around objects. "He's playing hide and seek with his friends. This way please. We designated a hangar as the Autobots communications area with private quarters and a recreational room nearby."

"Can I see their bedrooms?" The spokesperson asked, staying close by.

"No. There was an incident earlier involving Decepticon drones and they returned an hour ago. The rooms will be occupied. Their combat system is the first thing to come online as they may need to defend themselves. If startled, they fire first and try to identify what is left to ask questions of. Or write a report for the files," he explained without a hint of emotion in his voice.

A high pitched shriek interrupted them, as a petite oriental woman was found hiding behind an oil barrel. She laughed then went still as the Tyrannosaurus Rex roared then grabbed her in his jaws, swinging his head up.

"Relax," Will stated calmly. "She's in his jaw area. Rides there," He pointed as Grimlock half opened his jaw, to reveal two women sitting inside laughing and talking to each other as the Dinobot turned and trudged away west. "Things are not always what they seem around here."

The men blinked, starting to speak when a loud revving engine overrode them.

"Coming through!" A woman's voice announced as two motorcycles roared by, splitting out and round the men by mere inches.

"Slow it down Arcee!" Will yelled after them then shook his head with a laugh. "Girl's a speed freak. Good combat fighter. Something wrong? "

"Those were Transformers also?" The spokesperson asked, smoothing his hairpiece down.

"Yes, Arcee and Firestar. Chromia is probably with her mate Ironhide. You will meet him later. Big mech, bigger cannons. "

"Cannons? Uhm, Major," the man began. "I'm sure you have the base well secure and the Transformers seem comfortable here so I'll finish my report on the plane. Send me any pertinent information." He began backing up, waving his assistant to follow.

"Are you sure?" Will asked, ever courteous. "There are refreshments and I can show you the rest of the base? Okay, have a safe trip," he said as they practically jogged for the entry gates. He grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Epps. "They left already. No idea. And remind Grimlock the hide and seek play area is on the west side of the research hangar, not the north."

_**Story arc – Choices create situations but Not End Results (pt 1)**_

_219. Do not take on responsibility for what you cannot change. Recognize the battles that are battles and the choices that are choices. We are responsible for our actions and choices and must endure the battles aftermath._

In the Autobot med bay on Diego Garcia, the assembled bots patiently waited as Ratchet finished his exam of the tiny new life. Optimus brooded as Elita stood by his side. Ratchet and Ironhide ignored them, working with Bumblebee and the sparkling. The Corvette twins stood on the other side of the medical berth, having tagged along out of curiosity. Jazz stood behind them, having arrived with Ultra Magnus. Prowl was resting on his berth, locked into a joor long recharge by Ratchet, the datapad confiscated and locked in a nearby supply cabinet.

"Do I have to take you outside and thump your chassis soundly Orion?" Elita asked in her best femme commander pay attention to me and get the answer right tone.

"What?" Optimus snapped his optics towards her, startled.

"Then again, you're beating yourself up enough for both of us. Our bond is thrumming and I know you. Thousands of years of second-guessing, did I do the right thing, am I the right leader? Could I have saved more sparks, caused less damage? This war is not your fault. Choices of those outside your command, choices made in their personal life are not your fault," she reminded.

"I'm their Prime, it's my responsibility to guide and lead." He drew himself up full height, hydraulics whirring as feet pads braced, blue armored arms crossing across his chest windows.

"Prime not Primus. Even he would be hard pressed to handle these bots," she stated.

"That's blasphemy," Ratchet stated, his optics twinkling as he slid past them to retrieve a padded blanket.

"Since when do you believe? Sides, every bot knows what happened. Primus was first. Then the universe decided it could do better and created the first femme to keep him in line," Elita said.

Optimus narrowed his optics, "In line? We will see about that next recharge."

"Who has first watch?" Ironhide interrupted. "I have Annabelle to guard and Bumblebee has Sam and Mikeala. Which bot for missy there? Least until her femme appears." He looked at the bot he had raised.

::Not for me to say who femme is:: Bumblebee sent open comm, ducking his head and dropping his wing doors down.

"Afraid of her or the mech if they find out you told?" Sideswipe guessed.

::No, gave word of honor to assist her. Mech not interested:: Bumblebee's mental tone held disgust at the thought of not wanting a sparkling.

"We want this femme. Who guards?" Ultra Magnus asked.

"Me!" Three bots said in unison.

Jazz folded his white armored arms and faced the twins. "Man, I raised Bumblebee more than you two miscreants."

"I never flushed his tanks but endured his screams and getting him out of trouble," Sunstreaker imperiously said.

"Every bot did," Jazz reminded. "Hound was his caretaker after Ironhide and me. Even Prowl fed and watched him."

"I want to take care of her. Show me what I need to know for full time care," Sideswipe said quietly to their startlement.

::Since when do you want to play femme?:: Sunstreaker asked over their twin bond, his disbelief evident.

::I want more than fighting:: Sideswipe answered.

The others watched Sunstreaker twitch, nearly falling over and looking at his twin with slack jaw gears. "I…I need….to sit down," he said, leaning back on the med berth. Sideswipe shrugged human style then returned to watching the sparkling.

"Any chance he is?" Optimus asked quietly.

"None. Checked the logs the time the sparking would have occurred. Half the mechs were on missions or patrol, including the mechs in this room. My guess is a recent Cybertron transfer. Does it matter other than not being a Decepticon?" Ratchet pointed out.

"No," Optimus agreed.

"I intend to send the mech back to Cybertron," Ultra Magnus growled in a husky tone. They all looked up at him. "On the end of my foot pad with energon blasts up his tailpipe," he added, red flecks moving across his blue optics.

Optimus winced, recognizing the signs of true anger in his lifelong friend. 'This situation keeps getting better and better,' he processed, wrapping his arms around his sparkmate for comfort.

"I agree with Magnus. I want the spark of the mech," Elita's hands tightened on his arm.

"It was consensual or we will rip him apart. You know the law and my feelings on the matter," he growled softly by her audio sensors.

"Yes," she agreed, a feeling of satisfaction flowing from her spark to his. "Any mech responsible enough to hold a gun can take responsibility for aiming and firing it."

He quirked an eye plate up, amused by her choice of words. "Is that an order for me to handle said mech, femme commander?" he rumbled.

"You handle to prevent brigging me for life or forced stasis pending a trial. I estimate…. no, I know I would go ballistic on his sorry aft. Not recognizing a sparkling." Pain flared across her expression, weighted with old regret.

"Elita?" He asked, disturbed by the intensity of her emotion.

"I'm fine," she waved off his concern. "At least she didn't try to claim it the matrix did it."

"She might. Its existence is not a secret." Optimus yelped, releasing her and hopping backwards on his one good foot. "Femme!"

::Are you ok?:: Bumblebee

::Fine. Breaker charge on my foot:: Optimus sent, leaning against the recharge berth. His tingling foot was still in the air, twitching.

"A reminder to not keep secrets either," she smiled.

He vented softly, recognizing the tone. 'She is still fragged. Ow, lesser charge but that hurt! Probably fry my foot every hundred or so orns.' Deliberately, he placed the twitching foot back on the floor, ignoring the other mechs amusement.

::Why do mechs want femmes again?:: Bumblebee asked, his wing doors rotating up with curiosity.

Optimus fumbled, never having the "talk" with the youngling. ::Ask Ironhide or Ratchet. I am not the best source of information on that subject:: Optimus

:Why?:: Bumblebee

::I wanted Elita and only Elita the first moment my optics registered her presence. Ironhide and Chromia took awhile to become a couple. Before meeting her, he was popular with the femmes. Don't imitate his behavior but his… experiences might prove useful. Ratchet has the medical information you will need:: Optimus smoothly sent then disconnected the comm line.

Across the room, his war commander straightened with a hiss of his hydraulic lifts. "By tradition," Ultra Magnus began. "Creators have five joors to claim their rights or the clan may adopt and place any sparkling. This sparkling has no clan engraving."

"Didn't know to add one when I made the protoform. I had assumed Ironhide and Chromia would use it and they wanted to watch it come online together. The glyphs are etched while it is in first recharge." Ratchet grumped. "The femme never consulted me. Helped herself to the storage locker, or had help by a bot who knew stealth techniques." They all looked at Bumblebee who ducked his head, avoiding their optics.

"Do you intend to requisition her for your clan?" Ultra Magnus asked.

::Me!:: Bumblebee sputtered, wings buzzing in place as he nearly fell over. ::Slag no! I would not know… I could not….. I am only a youngling! She needs full time care and… love and….." He stopped as a smiling Optimus rested one massive blue armored hand on his yellow shoulder plate.

"Realizing that makes you qualified more than you know but we will honor your decision. However, do you know if she intends to keep the sparkling?"

::Yes, for now. She is in recharge but I left messages explaining. If she contacts you that is her choice:: Bumblebee answered.

Ultra Magnus's optics dimmed as he immediately accessed the personnel quarters camera system. Super speed, the footage of the last twenty-four hours human time replayed through his systems. The footage showed Bumblebee sneaking a small wrapped shape into the hallway then enter Silverblade's room. She entered then they both left a short time later, the bundle in her arms. Running the footage forward, he watched Silverblade return to her personal room alone and remain there. ::Prime, it is Silverblade. He just confirmed it was her unknowingly::

Optimus nodded, processor running scenarios. ::Elita, its Silverblade::

::I will confirm her functioning. I am not a wrench thrower like doc there but I have medical training enough. Be back shortly:: Elita sent, leaving.

"I have patrol in the morning. Need to polish my cannons," Ironhide stated, turning and moving towards the door.

"That's not a good reason or credible excuse for not helping decide who guards her," Sunstreaker protested.

"At his age, he's used all the good excuses," Ratchet said. Ironhide huffed, spinning his cannons before stomping out the doors. Sunstreaker and Jazz followed, arguing about who had done what back on the Artemis. Bumblebee laid the sparkling onto the padded berth, turning her care over to Ratchet.

::I need to check on Sam and Mikeala:: Bumblebee sent then left. Optimus and Ultra Magnus followed, discussing how to find the mech and what should be done when they did. Ratchet watched the tiny femme recharging, remembering what it felt like to see life and not death.

_EMERGENCY MEDICAL COMM FREQUENCY ACTIVATED_

::RATCHET! Get to Silver's quarters now! Full stasis shock and deteriorating rapidly:: Elita yelled for help.

The yellow green medic turned, leaping thorough the air as he transformed, sliding into his alt mode and out the med bay doors. ::Sides! Watch that sparkling. If Silverblade offlines she will know and feel it in her spark. Her whole system could crash. Assimilate this:: the medic transmitted a data packet of emergency procedures and sparkling reactions to the red twin.

He immediately opened it, processing it fully then vented hard. ::Understood and ready:: Sideswipe answered, feeling way out of his depth but determined not to fail.

::What's wrong? Are you under attack? Our bond is buzzing!:: Sunstreaker suddenly broke in over their twin bond.

::Silverblade is close to offlining. It will affect her sparkling. Ratchet gave me the info to save it while he helps her:: Sideswipe sent, pulling on the strength they shared.

::Offlining? And Silverblade! She is the femme? Wow. I passed on chasing her, figured too unemotional and distant. Rotten pit. I will never figure out femmes! Could have had a spark myself:: Sunstreaker

::Not going there bro'. Help in med bay?:: Sideswipe asked quietly. He was ready but having his twin made it seem easier if only to trade verbal barbs with to relieve the tension.

::Already en route. I can drive and talk too:: Sunstreaker quipped, the distinct transforming sound outside the doors announcing his arrival. ::Coasted in to hide my engine sounds. Works on the battlefield too::

::I know. I taught you that trick remember?:: Sideswipe.

In his lab, Wheeljack put the finishing touches on the upper torso square of the sparkling protoform.

::WHEELJACK!:: Ratchet's call snapped him up straight, the jerking movement causing him to nearly fall off the metal stool. ::Meet us at mad bay! Your over powered design is the problem:: Ratchet sent a quick visual of Silverblade's open chest and the spire adjustments, his hands closing the spark cover to move her.

::Mine? It was never meant for a spark configuration that ancient! The power lay lines are all wrong. What were you processing during her upgrade?:: Wheeljack argued, hobbling down the hall of the research lab building, his metal leg strut clanging on every other step.

::Me? I did not do this! However, the soldering are precise and the wiring strung perfectly. No tension, no slack, which rules out my thick-chipped assistant Red Alert, and Hook both:: Ratchet

::Then who?:: Wheeljack

::No slagging idea. But I will wring the neck cables of the mech that did. Endangered them all. She could have overcharged, wiping out her spark and the mech's while joining that level of energy:: Ratchet's mental tone was fierce.

::Is she stable enough to access her memory core? Find out who the mech is? Verify his spark condition?:: Wheeljack added, hobbling across the concrete tarmac, wincing at the scraping sound his strut made.

::No and he can rust rot for all I care. Back surge wiped her last orn of memory but the emergency breaker saved her processors. Self-repair is online and working. We have to find a better place for the automated distress signal and medical coding than under the spark itself:: Ratchet

::Spark spires are the safest place:: Wheeljack reminded, passing through the outer doors of the med bay building.

::Not this time:: Ratchet sent, closing the comm line, the limp protoform of Silverblade in his arms.

_To be continued…_


	65. Chapter 65 Sparkling gets her name

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and e-mails regarding the story and Silverblade. Yes, the sparkling gets her name this chapter. The mech half will be revealed after the next chapter. Next chapter, # 66 is a rules posting on Rules 153 – 205. Skip ahead to chapter 67 if you only want story when they post together.

Thanks to Cisco Girl for the Ironhide quote. Yes, I asked her permission first. In one of her fics, she mentioned Ironhide talking to a suicide bomber and how their group and others avoided NEST team members after that. Robo-rat to describe Wheelie is used per permission of another writer. For a good fast fic read Clifjumpersfangirl new fic Sideswipe_VS_Hedgehog. It is hilarious! Anytime you want to write a one shot or fic off a rule just let me know so I can read and enjoy when done and go for it.

Why that name for the sparkling? It fit both the alien origin and what a new sparkling would be to the Transformers on earth. And that name is a company in Thailand that makes… guess what? Small to medium Transformers! Okay, the power pole type but I could not resist. It was too perfect. Onward to learning from what others tell you.

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_199. Do not hide pain or be ashamed of needing help from teammates or Autobot command. The human culture has entire realms to helping and being helped though we should avoid radio call in shows, public forums including but not limited to Dr Phil, Jerry Springer and anger management classes. _

Mikeala watched Sam throw his juice bottle at the recycling can and miss. Bumblebee groaned, shaking his head while she giggled. Wheelie spun in a circle, before falling over, kicking his wheels in the air as though offlined. "He misses, big slagging surprise!"

"Awesome aim there," Mikeala teased, chucking hers straight in. The scout clapped his hands together, "You're beautiful kid," voice clip played. Wheelie jumped up and down on his wheels, pointing at the perfect shot. The picnic area was deserted, even with its spectacular view of the Indian Ocean, allowing them to play unobserved by the NEST soldiers.

He glared at Wheelie, "Keep it up robo-rat. I'll have Ironhide flatten you into a tin can."

"Sam, be nice. He's an Autobot. You wouldn't treat Bumblebee like that," Mikeala rebuked him. "You're just misunderstood," she crooned to the little blue bot as he rolled to her. "Got your optic fixed and you are too cute and smart, yes you are." He nuzzled against her, revving his engine like a purr.

Sam rolled his eyes, leaning back against the leg of his Autobot guardian. He pointed at Wheelie and Mikeala. "Seen anything scarier than that big guy?"

Bumblebee's entire chassis bounced as he laughed. Long the youngest and smallest, he loved being called big and guy instead of youngling. *You have no idea. Scouts are more spy than any other function * Bumblebee texted to the laptop sitting by Sam. His vocal modulator was still unreliable. *In hiding, mechs do things they don't do publicly that only a scout sees. *

"Like stealing the last of the energon? Or cheating at games?" Sam guessed.

"Or pulling pranks like the twins?" Mikeala added, covering Wheelie with her jacket as he activated his recharge cycle.

*Worse. Followed Barricade and a seeker I did not recognize. Officially Megatron ordered them to find a way to infiltrate Iacon defenses. Only alone, away from the Decepticon citadel, they became personal with each other*

"Personal as in making out?" Sam guessed. "Ewwww, they didn't?"

*They were between me and the only safe route across a heavily mined field. I was blocked in but undetected. Any movement would have registered on their sensors. Even activating my jamming program would have drawn their weapons to me. But the seeker was a femme! Hid as a mech to survive*Bumblebee texted.

"'Bee!" Mikeala slapped his leg plate. "You perverted youngling! You watched?"

The yellow scout rapidly shook his head a negative, covering his optics with his hands. *Too embarrassed to! Turned off my audio sensors too. They left and I escaped back to Autobot territory. But discovered Decepticon femmes had survived and they had technology to hide their energy signatures. Wheeljack found a way to identify each one after that. Could have pretended to be an Autobot. Assassins offlined a Prime that way before. Now Optimus was safe*

"What else?" she asked.

* Soundwave likes to move his fingers, tapping them in rhythms that are not musical. Almost sends his cassettes off their processors after awhile. Starscream draws symbols on the ground when he is thinking and Ravage bites seeker's he doesn't like when they get too close.*

"Have you ever watched Megatron?" Sam asked, barely suppressing a shiver.

* More than I wanted to. What he does tells a lot. When he has the advantage, knows he is in control, he is suave and speaks without true meaning while touching or tapping his claws. *

"Like telling me I had something on my mind referring to the Allspark glyphs in the abandoned factory," Sam remembered.

* Yes. When he is fighting or unsure, he yells, threatens and uses his mace or long range weapons *

"Mission city!" Sam snapped his fingers. "On the roof he stayed back and blasted the entire corner I was standing on."

"And he took Jazz, the smallest mech away to offline him. Second smallest, no offense Bumblebee. Starscream and that helicopter did the real fighting until Optimus showed up," Mikeala added.

* He feared the Allspark, * Bumblebee texted, the line showing as bold on the screen.

"What's the worst thing you've seen?" Sam asked without thinking then scooted away as Bumblebee shook, optics going wide as he made gurgling sounds.

"Bee! I'm sorry. Calm down buddy," he ordered then yelped as Mikeala punched his arm.

"Nice going Sam. He's been telling us about watching Decepticons and you ask a question like that?" She crooned softly to the mech, patting the back of his hand with hers.

He locked down the memories in his processor, sealing them with an encrypted password. External sensors relayed both his humans were hugging him.

*Sorry for acting like a sparkling* he texted, touching them lightly on their backs with his yellow armored hands.

"You are not a sparkling," Mikeala said.

"Yah, more a spoiled youngling that watches too many late night anime cartoons," Sam teased then smiled as large metal fingers ruffled his hair. "Anyone want a burger from the commissary?"

"Sam, are you ever not hungry?" Mikeala asked exasperatedly, lifting a recharging Wheelie into her arms. Bumblebee played a fast food commercial clip then transformed into his Camaro alt mode, opening both doors for his family.

_212. Do not assume our enemies are known or easily recognizable. By definition enemy means one seeking to overthrow, injure or confound an opponent. Know your friends and stay alert lest you be confounded and offlined by any other being._

At the Lennox family farm, the Corvette twins' optics focused on Annabelle as their logic processors temporarily stalled.

::I am not saying a word:: Sideswipe sent over their twin bond.

::You started it. Reading off the e-mails we got for posting pictures to that car website:: Sunstreaker

The little girl glanced between them, recognizing they were talking on a frequency she could not hear. The red one she liked the best finally vented softly and lowered his hand for her to climb onto. She hopped on, balancing against one finger as he raised her up to their optic level.

"They're cyber slang youngling. Ways to say a long phrase repeatedly quickly. Like calling you 'Belle instead of Annabelle. Or NEST for Networked Elements Supporters and Transformers," he began.

"So LMFAO? Means?" She asked.

"Laugh my fabulous array off," Sunstreaker said, wriggling his main chassis. "Means they loved it."

"ROFL?"

"Roll on floor laughing," Sideswipe answered while thanking his twin.

"POS?" She continued.

"Pile of scrap. Even Ratchet cannot fix or keep it online," Sunstreaker improvised, his yellow armored hand holding up two fingers to show how many he had fixed for her.

"Ohh. That is sad. He can fix all of you right? Especially Ironhide. I love him and do not ever want him to go away and not come back," Annabelle said softly. The twins exchanged a startled glance.

::Short life span, fragile bodies. They may be under smart but she has been around us. May be hope for her yet:: Sideswipe sent, his read head bobbing his twin's way then towards her.

::You be a youngling caretaker. Femmes like that. I have a sword subspace catch to reset:: Sunstreaker sent, his yellow chassis striding towards the barn. The little girl was lowered back to the ground by her swing set. She laughed, liking being up high before returning to her playing.

"We will be nearby until Ironhide and Major Lennox return," Sideswipe instructed, rolling away on his feet wheels. Once out of site, he flipped the wheels up, lowering his feet pads back down. "Too much dust around here. Wheels clean easier. How did we pull this assignment again?"

"You were bragging about our developing skills in dealing with humans where Prime could hear you. We had to drive here without breaking any road rules, stay one day with the Lennox family and drive back to the air force base without breaking any rules, human or Autobot before returning or do scrap duty nine orns for lying before command officers," Sunstreaker reminded, looking up. "Sun is setting soon. I need to top off my solar powering unit. Transforming into alt mode now." Sideswipe followed, tapping into the proximity alarms while setting his battle systems on standby.

An hour later, they both detected the approaching vehicle at the same time. ::Anyone we know?:: Sideswipe

::No. Earth vehicle and one unfamiliar bio signature. Transform and stay out of sight:: Sunstreaker.

The brown dodge sedan parked by the house, the dust rapidly settling. The driver got out, keeping his head down as he stiffly moved to stand by the front bumper. Five foot eight, lean and dressed in a grey sweatshirt and jeans he appeared non-threatening but Sarah was hesitant. The farm was far enough out for the Transformers to move around freely and very few human visitors were allowed. Hands tucked in his jacket pockets, he appeared calm even as the twins monitored his accelerated heart beat and rapid respiration.

Sarah opened the front door before walking down the front steps, stopping at the bottom one. "Can I help you?"

"Is Captain Lennox home?" the man asked, raising his eyes to stare at her. They were intense and brooding. He remained unsmiling and unmoving.

Sarah took an instinctive step backwards, glancing over at Annabelle by the barn. Her motherly instincts were screaming full danger and he had said Captain, not Major. "My husband is due back shortly," she lied. "You can wait out here, was he expecting you?"

"Expecting?" the man repeated with a hoarse laugh. "Expecting!" his tone changed to a snarl. "I was expecting to retire from Sector Seven fat and happy and he messed it up." The man reached into his jacket and pulled out a large automatic pistol. "He and that boy and those aliens changed everything. We warned them we did. Shanghai, Egypt I knew the truth no matter what TV said. It was them! But no, nobody listened to us. Fired us, let us go. Then I saw Lennox this morning at the grocery store buying milk. Total accident or I would never have found you. It was fate. Now your fate is mine, and his," he stalked slowly forward. Sarah looked up and over him, smiling slightly.

"You need to surrender and put that gun down now," she stated firmly.

"Nice try lady. I am not afraid of you. Arrggh!" He screamed as a large yellow metal finger tapped his arm, dislodging the gun and breaking the bones. The rest of the metal hand folded around him, twisting and lifting him up to face two unsmiling tall alien mechs. One red and one yellow and neither reacting to his frightened screams and crying.

"Hey!" Annabelle yelled, running towards them. "Don't hurt him!" Sarah intercepted her half way, wrapping her arms around her daughter and holding her close.

"We won't offline him," Sunstreaker stated quietly as his red twin flexed his grip around the human.

"I know. I want Ironhide to talk to him. Daddy said Ironhide talked to a man carrying bombs on him and now they leave NEST soldiers alone. He can talk to mean man there and then give him to Bumblebee."

"Why?" Sideswipe asked, processors guessing the reason but wanting to hear it from the little girl.

"Cause they hurted him and he will know if he was mean then. Cybertron law states a punishment can be equal to the crime. Can be but does not have too. Sam says Bumblebee is scared sometimes from what happened. Daddy says when we face our fears and make them go away we get better. Bumblebee can face him and make him go away and then be all better. I like Bumblebee. He is nice. He will not offline the mean man but he may scare him back. That would be okay."

Sarah covered her mouth with her hands, searching for the right words to say. She motioned the girl inside. "You handle him," was her parting comment to the twins.

::You busy?:: Sunstreaker opened a comm line to Ironhide, keeping his amusement out of the signal.

::What did you do now? Tell me or I will see myself. Be there shortly to surprise the femmes with Will. Meeting finished early:: Ironhide

::Saved the femmes. Rogue human tried to shoot them, looking for Major Lennox:: Sideswipe

::WHAT?!!:: Ironhide

::Femmes are fine. Human is in our hands, one arm has support struts broke. Annabelle is claiming Cybertron law for him to face you as family head then given to Bumblebee for equaling out justice for his capture and torture by Sector Seven:: Sideswipe sent then waited as the silence stretched.

::Annabelle did?:: Ironhide finally asked.

::Yes. Orders sir?:: Sideswipe

::Hold him until we arrive:: Ironhide instructed then disconnected the comm line, the anger strong in his mental tone.

Fifteen minutes later, their advanced audios picked up the angry roar of a familiar engine. Trails of dust down the road showed the speed that the black top kick vehicle approached at. He barely slid to a stop before Will jumped out, rushing for the front door and his family. Ironhide transformed, rolling his cannons as one step brought him face to face with the human in Sideswipe's hand.

Will never heard what was said, his arms wrapped around his girls as they stood in the living room. The human was stored in Sideswipe's trunk after being knocked out. He was transported to town where the state police took custody; giving basic first aid for his arm before shipping him to the military base. From there, he disappeared off any public record. Unofficially he showed up at a mental hospital for the criminally insane several states over. Ironhide relayed the events to Optimus.

::Well handled. The human is being dealt with and is no longer a threat:: Optimus

::What about 'Bee? Youngling never mentioned any long term problems to me:: Ironhide's mental tone carried a level of hurt.

::Never confided to Ratchet or me. I thought the processor overlay removed any after effects following his capture by Megatron . For now, monitor from a distance and offer the chance for him to talk. If not, be patient. He is young and prefers his independence. The stubbornness protocols he got from you:: Optimus chided.

::Must be. You still have all yours:: Ironhide got in the last word before closing the signal. Will Lennox decided his family would return with him to Diego Garcia to celebrate Annabelle's birthday. Sarah was happy to be with him and Annabelle took two empty suitcases to bring her presents back home in.

_208. Do not forget your strengths, training and what you have earned. We transform to hide our true form and for mobility. But who we are relies on who we choose to be no matter our size or shape._

In the Autobot hangar at Diego Garcia, Sarah Lennox stood facing the tall red and blue bipedal mech, neither willing to budge. The twins, Skids and Mudflap along with Cliffjumper practiced partial transforms, bringing weapons to bear before fully shifting into either mode at the far hangar end.

"No," Optimus Prime stated firmly. "The matter was dealt with." His regal baritone was deep even for him.

"Really?" Sarah challenged the leader with the single word. The assembled soldiers dropped their laptops, reports or anything else in their hands and fled the hangar. Whatever was about to go down between the alien warrior and Lennox's wife was not going to catch them in the crossfire. The infamous time out corners was still a living memory for them. Mudflap and Skids completed transforming down into their car alt modes, racing for the main door.

"Respecting your privacy," Cliffjumper called out, his red Camaro alt mode zooming past and out the doors, allowing them to secure the instant his tailpipe cleared the entryway.

Optimus remained kneeling, his face close to her slight form, blue optics spinning. "Now that we are alone, I restate, my answer is No. You cannot make me," he challenged.

"Why?" Sarah asked, not relaxing her stance one inch.

"I have been alive longer than your civilization has been in existence. I have commanded thousands and fight a war for the survival of our race and yours," he pointed a flat ended metal finger at her. "I am larger, out mass you, carry far more weaponry and defensive systems than your husband can even identify and I simply do not agree with the requested course of action. I have not threatened anyone nor raised my vocal volume but my answer as both a mech and a Prime remains no," he concluded, rising back to his full height as hydraulics hissed and energon system increased. The ancient mech waited for her to yell, order or demand he obey. Instead, she smiled and her optics began to moisten. 'Oh Primus, please not the eye lubricants,' he processed, feeling his resolve weakening.

Sarah looked up at him and smiled. A true, from the heart smile only a mother could give. "About darn time you realized that," she said before wiping at her eyes. "All grown up now. And you are right; I have no way to enforce my wishes. Took courage to tell me that. Just don't push it," she said. "I better check on Annabelle. It's been awhile since the last alarm sounded." The human female turned to leave, missing Optimus venting in relief, his expression giving him away.

Outside the assembled group saw Sarah Lennox stride out the doors but none dare approach. "What are you looking at? Need chores to do?" She said, scattering them all directions. "Anyone seen Ironhide or Annabelle?"

_Story arc – Choices create situations but Not End Results (pt 4)_

Ratchet ran through the med bay doors, sliding to a stop by the nearest empty medical berth. Fast but gently he laid Silverblade's prone form out. Sideswipe stood by the sparkling as his twin Sunstreaker waited by him, giving silent reassurances. Metal clanking in the hallway had them looking as Wheeljack hobbled in, his leg strut making the noise.

"Status?" He asked, side bars flashing purple to almost black in distress.

"Not good," Ratchet muttered, finishing sliding her spark cover to the side. "Spark is fluctuating. May have to interlink the core."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Sideswipe asked, optics drawn to the brilliant white of her flashing spark.

"Safer than a full spark rupture," Ratchet said then swore. "^*$#& 'Jack, pull those lines! Back charging." The inventor grabbed the two cables, ripping them from her fittings. Ratchet's transformed fingers continued the emergency work around the spark spires, adjusting chamber settings. Five minutes later he pulled his attachments back, transforming the ends back to fingers.

"Stable," he diagnosed, confirming what his processors knew against monitor readings. "In stasis but not locked. Will transition to recharging."

"You did well," Wheeljack said, laying a white armored hand on his shoulder. "Her last memory core is damaged beyond repair isn't it?" He stated more than asked.

"Yes. Negligible to her being online. Bringing her back full functional will take us both. Can you process a better design? One for a system as ancient and rebuilt as hers?"

"Already working on it. Need the design upload program on the mainframe and you to double check the settings," Wheeljack moved towards the digital workstation.

Sideswipe cupped one hand around the recharging sparkling, whispering to it. "Hear that, your femme creator is fine. She may not remember you but that's okay." He rubbed one finger against its tiny protoform head plate flaps. "Her spark will know you. And we will protect you both."

Breems later, Silverblade pulled out of recharge, sensors registering a group of familiar mechs nearby. Her weapons and battle systems were offline, locked with medical coding. Optic shutters blinked as she came to full awareness. "What happened?"

"You were injured. You are in med bay and will be released shortly. The last memory core has damage. Expect some gaps," Ratchet gave her the report as Wheeljack monitored her power settings. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker stood by the far wall, refusing to leave. Optimus acknowledged their choice, reviewing daily operational details with Prowl and Ultra Magnus. Bumblebee stepped forward at Ratchet's nod, explaining what he knew of the situation. Silverblade listened, jaw gears going slack even as her spark surged with joy.

"I have a sparkling?"

Sideswipe transferred the bundle to her arms. "Touch over her spark," he instructed, stepping back.

Silverblade did and understood, "She is mine, a part of my spark. Who is the mech?"

Ultra Magnus stepped forward as the others hesitated, remaining silent. "You never said. The mech has refused his duties but chose to remain anonymous."

"Why?"

"I am taking his place. He didn't want to argue," Magnus stated, crossing his arms and bracing his chassis as though for battle.

::You want to?:: Sideswipe sent privately.

::Were you going to?:: Ultra Magnus hesitated, the barest challenge in his commanding tone.

::Not as mech. Want to be involved but not fully. I was planning on dueling the mech. Ancient law allows a fight to determine the provider for a femme:: Sideswipe

::That law is as old as Cybertron. From the days when femmes were few:: Ultra Magnus

::Femmes are few now. And I wanted the mech's spark. Will you treat Silverblade as your own spark?:: Sideswipe asked, fingering his sword subspace catch.

"Silverblade, if she will allow me, will be my oath sworn mate. To share the joys and halve the pains. Beyond that is her choice," Ultra Magnus stated firmly.

"Heard and witnessed," Wheeljack and Ratchet said in unison.

"What are you going to call her?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Estel. Her name is Estel." Silverblade said without hesitation.

"Means 'star' as in light in the heavens above in Latin," Prowl stated after searching the internet. His head was turned to the side as he watched. Ratchet held a wrench, pointing it his direction until he rotated back straight to face the wall.

"In writing, it means Hope," Epps commented then explained as they turned to look at him. "My sister is a Literary major in college. Always throwing writing terms at me."

"Estel is perfect for our newest femme," Optimus said.

_To be continued…_


	66. Chapter 66 The mystery mech is revealed

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and e-mails. Yes, the mech is revealed and probably one not guessed or easily thought of but fits perfectly. Research on TF wiki if curious. Onward to learning restraint and accepting responsibilities.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

_228. Do not assist in illegal, dishonest or scandalous actions and do not encourage or provide the means for fellow Autobots to commit the afore mentioned acts. On the battlefield and off we are family and should support each other's sparks, not get their afts in trouble. _

In the Autobot med bay the next morning, Prowl's optics brightened. "All mechs are accounted for and operational, reporting for duty or meetings this morning per mainframe status. I can inquire personally, comm each one," he began, wanting to work.

"No, this is a unique situation. We will make the announcement shortly and give the mech an opportunity to come forward and identify himself. There may be circumstances we do not fully understand. We will not pass judgment yet," Optimus explained. Sitting on the floor, his large blue armored legs and wheels were at an angle to the side even as he leaned forward to make it easier for the prone second in command to discuss the situation.

"I could," he tried again.

"No Prowl. Silverblade and Ultra Magnus will return shortly with Estel. They are choosing new quarters. You need to rest and recover," Optimus stated.

"Any more resting and the humans will cover me with pillows and use me as the new couch in the recreation room," he grumbled good naturedly.

"Least you'd be useful," Ratchet quipped as he passed them.

With the hiss of pressure venting, the Prime rose to full height, optics watching Ratchet disappear into the parts room.

"Here," he held out a silver armored hand, a small external drive sub spacing onto it. Prowl blinked his shutter covers then accepted the device, hiding it under his chin. Optimus took two steps to the side as Ratchet reentered the room, optics observing them then the parts he carried. "Return to full functioning old friend," Optimus ordered before leaving. Prowl's lip plates twitched up into a smile then smoothed out before Ratchet detected it. The drive activated, wirelessly connecting to his systems.

Prowl snickered, optics detailing the sketches accuracy. "Our armor would not buckle that way nor our distance compensators fail but it is cute." The scanned sketch showed Hound stopped and his green jeep alt mode back end crumpled from Skids hitting it. Skid's green alt mode front and back ends were crumpled. Piled into him from behind was Mudflap, his orange crumpled front against his twin and back crumpled from Jazz hitting him. A butterfly soared above "But it was such a pretty butterfly! I couldn't hit it," Hound explained" was written underneath.

The next sketch he raised an eye plate over. Optimus Prime stood on the smoking wreckage of Megatron. His normal blue helm was black with a swoop to the front and large dark sunglasses hid his optics. His normal flame chest armor was sparkly. "Thank you, thank you very much," Elvis Prime was written across the bottom. Prowl's optics dimmed as he researched. "Ah, I understand. Human cultural reference."

The third sketch showed Hound and Bumblebee wearing buckskin flaps on their leg plates and raccoon tail hats on their heads. Arcee stood nearby, paints on her armor like beadwork and a leather carrier on her back. The mechs were obviously arguing, holding a map between them and pointing different directions. "If our scouts tried to find the Pacific Northwest." Lewis and Clark, explorers. Prowl identified from human history then noticed the leather carrier on Arcee's frame. Searching the internet, he formed an idea then yelped as the connection was severed.

CLANG!

A silver wrench ricocheted below his head on the medical berth end. "Resting is not searching the human internet! I disconnected your external comm and uplink. Forced recharge is next. One wing door is attached and has to set. I am leaving you alone until Magnus returns. I need to attach Wheeljack's leg armor. You move while I'm at Wheeljack's lab and the matrix won't be able to bring you back," the medic threatened then left.

Prowl waited until his steps faded from his audios. "Accessing data file '_often imitated never duplicated 12_.'" The encrypted file open, activating coding sequences to change his digital identity to duplicate another Autobot's electronic identifier. "Overriding medical lockout now. Continuing my research. Trust Jazz to have a program tailored made for this situation. I will fine him one hundred credits for it working and uploading it and then deduct two hundred fifty credits fine from my account for using it."

Two hours later, the remote drones in Wheeljack's lab finished their project. The inventor took the item, reading the attached note. "Please deliver to med bay and Silverblade."

In med bay, Ratchet looked at the item then handed it wordlessly to Silverblade. "I need to check on Prowl. He's in recharge but his wing wiring is not pulling proper current. Blocking the other wing door from attaching."

Ultra Magnus and Optimus watched her unfold it, figuring how to secure it after a minute of disagreeing.

"Which bot is it from?" Silverblade asked, reaching for her sparkling.

"Ordered by AP Sicso. What kind of name is that?"Wheeljack asked, his sidebars flashing blue and green.

"Adam Paul Sicso?" Ultra Magnus guessed at random.

"A Prankster So? But only command officers can control the drones. Safety after a twins prank," Ratchet added from across the room.

"Not a prank. The gift was incredibly thought out and kind," Silverblade stated, both hands free while the sparkling snuggled above her spark chamber in the forward resting sling. It clicked, content and warm against the soft flexible material.

Optimus looked over to the side, optics narrowing. 'Autobot Prowl, Second in Command Security Officer,' he processed but did not say.

_211. Do not be caught unaware when enemies appear. If we were expecting them a single blast would eliminate the problem and the words "surprise attack, ambush and caught off guard" would cease to be known._

Mikeala looked down as her phone beeped. * Stay inside * texted onto the screen. The teenage deli counter clerk ignored her, bagging the sandwiches and potato salad to go. Almost closing time, he wanted to finish the order and lock up for the night. The little blue remote control truck at her feet had gotten a single glance before he ordered her to leave it outside. He had revved his engine but obeyed her, keeping in contact with text messages. * Stay inside * repeated.

She glanced out the window, seeing Wheelie running back and forth in his 4 x 4 alt mode in the parking lot, flashing his lights.

* Almost ready. Problem? * She texted back.

* Stay inside * was repeated as the little mech zoomed off to the side and out of sight.

"Whatever," she muttered, grabbing the food bags. The clerk locked the door after her, turning off the main restaurant lights. Her motorcycle was parked where she had left it but no sign of Wheelie. Sitting the bags down, bungee cords secured them on the back. Her leather riding jacket was zipped up. "Figures the Autobots are away on missions. I'm tired and letting Chromia or Firestar drive back to the ferry docks would help. Now where did he go?"

"Mikeala!" A man's voice called her name and she turned automatically even as her memory struggled to recognize the familiar voice. "Oh slag."

Trent DeMarco and two large men stood there. "Mikeala Banes. Hottest chick in high school before meeting that geek with a wreck of a car. Where is he? Hiding in the bushes from Todd and Ryan here ? Or you get wise and dump his skinny butt?" His hair was still the same tussled blond and his eyes flat and without emotion. Muscles were less and body art tattoos now adorned his left arm. The same tight jeans and shirt too small stretched across his chest.

A thousand things ran through her thoughts, not one regarding fear or caution. "What the frag are you doing here? This isn't even the United States."

"All star college game international. Part of my scholarship deal," he smiled without feeling, spreading his arms wide to encompass the area. "I and my buds here are visiting this country to play in a demo game late tomorrow. Wanted to see the sights and look who we find, you." The smile disappeared from his face.

She stared at him, not interested. "Whatever Trent. I'm going," she told him, climbing onto her motorcycle but not reaching for the safety helmet. The key turned but nothing happened.

"Missing something?" He reached in a back pocked and pulled out spark plug wiring.

"Give those back Trent."

"Or what bunny? You'll hop over here and smite me with a science book you borrowed?" He moved closer at each word as she climbed off the motorcycle. A small high pitched whine had them all looking down as a toy 4 x 4 slid in between. Wheelie transformed, rolling backwards towards her to look up at Trent.

"Back off buzz boy or you'll be picking your teeth up out of a cup forever," he threatened, both optics full red. "You feeling lucky?" He added, subspacing two mini machine looking guns onto his arms.

"Who do you think you are? Minibo?" Trent laughed, raising a foot and stomping it his direction.

"Surrender," Wheelie stated.

"Over my dead body," Trent snapped.

"Your terms are acceptable… but not required." His optics extended straight up as he locked his wheels. Both weapons charged then fired different colored bursts. The left red ball of matter crossed into the right side yellow ball of matter, melding with it before striking.

Splat!

The orange mass hit their pant legs, dissolving to leave a darkened mark. Wheelie spun back towards her. "See? Their processors are gonna melt!"

Trent snickered before lunging, kicking Wheelie and sending sliding him on his side. "Touchdown!" He sneered then rocked back as Mikeala punched him. Stumbling, he collided with Tony as Ryan punched her, splitting her lip and knocking her down.

"Stop!" Trent yelled, rubbing his jaw and pulling free. "This is between me and her. Keep your hands off."

"Uh, Trent? Dude, your pants…" Tony began.

Trent looked then blinked as the denim material shivered, parts falling off like a flower dropping its petals. Tony and Ryan yelped, their pants coming apart the same way. The peeling continued as they fumbled, grabbing at their pants then shirts then underwear. Screaming, they fled wearing only skin.

"What? You think my spark could power anything bigger?" Wheelie challenged, righting himself and rubbing at the paint scratches on his side. "Slagging bullies. Even the 'Cons wouldn't want their worthless afts!"

"How?" she asked, daubing at her bleeding lip with a kleenex left in her pocket.

"Wheeljack made weaponized nannites for me. Eat anything non organic to multiply before they offline as a safety. Made for mech metal but clothes are edible. The nannites were shutting down as those sparklings ran away," Wheelie explained then nearly panicked at the blood. "Warrior goddess! Call Ratchet! Call 911! We have to get you to a hospital! Ere" he broke off as she grabbed him.

"I'm fine. Common fight wound. Let's go before someone else comes." She released him then picked up the dropped spark plug wires, grateful the nannites had missed eating them. One graceful motion and she rose to her feet, heading for the motorcycle.

"About that," the little Decepticon turned Autobot let his optics droop down. "I uh, called for backup."

"You didn't."

He nodded, scuffing one wheeled foot on the pavement. "Their signals were nearby. That was why I left. Got in the clear to send the message. I would never abandon you."

"Who and how nearby?" she asked then sighed as Silverbolt dove down over them then back up. Her hair flapped around her face with the pressured wind, debris scattering across the parking lot.

The sounds of a high running alien engine reached her ears. Ironhide's black top kick alt mode appeared first, rolling to a stop and transforming to the warrior mech. "Jammers active against cameras. No other humans detected nearby. The Twins have containment. You're leaking red online fluid from your lip but otherwise functional."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker skated into view, their wheels engaged on the end of their feet in their bi pedal modes. Todd and Ryan's naked bodies dangled from their hands, neither moving.

"Three of a kind, I got the femme," Jazz quipped, in his alt mode with Trent naked and face down on his green and red striped white hood with laser restraints.

"What did you do?" Mikeala asked then winced as her sore lip pulled.

"Gassed them. Testing Wheeljack's new knockout spray. Easiest way to handle humans is when they are not screaming and running," Sideswipe explained.

"Or throwing things at your paint," Sunstreaker added.

"How do you want to roll this?" Ironhide asked.

Mikeala started to reply then chuckled. "I have the perfect idea."

The next morning in the guest quarters on base, she sat up groggily in bed at the knock on her door. Memory returned. The fight with Trent, the Autobots arriving, her plan and catching the ride back to Diego Garcia with them and Silverbolt.

The door slid back to reveal Ratchet kneeling, his green and yellow bi pedal mode filling the doorway. His blue optics focused on her. "Ironhide asked I verify your medical condition without explaining what or why. Your lip is split with dermal tearing and your knuckles are bruised. I have seen you punch and you have the common femme temper."

"Ratchet…I," she began, pulling covers around her body.

"Here," he said, winking an optic before chucking a wrapped package and folded newspaper on the bed. "I trust your judgment. Take a pain reliever if needed. Your lessons continue at 09:30 hours in med bay." He slid the door closed, the locks engaging.

She opened the package and laughed. Inside was a tool belt with holsters to wrap around each of her thighs. Below that were twelve silver metal wrenches. Each lightweight and perfectly balanced for human hands. "To save your skin and my processors, Ratchet."

The newspaper was unfolded and an article lower right caught her attention. _"Three visiting football team all stars arrested in tattoo parlor, naked and without identification. Subjects were found passed out on the floor after an apparent break in as the alarm was sounding. Police responded and the subjects booked into the local county jail. They will be detained and deported then turned over to American authorities and possible psychiatric evaluation based on their incoherent and far fetched booking statements the morning after. "It is always sad," the police chief noted, "when today's youth mix drugs and alcohol while visiting our tropical paradise. Then to lie and tell stories not even my mammy would believe is sadder still."_

_**Story arc – Choices create situations but Not End Results (pt 5)**_

Inside the main Autobot hangar, Optimus watched the human's varied expressions following his announcement.

"Magnus made Silverblade his wife?" Major Will Lennox spoke first. He leaned against the railing between work stations.

"No," Optimus corrected firmly. "Oath sworn mate means he will provide and care for her, and her sparkling in this case. That is all. No interfacing and no sparking. They may share quarters but will have separate recharge berths. He may not touch her unless she gives permission."

"Is he a slave?" A communications tech piped up.

"Never. The Quintessons enslaved our race and we freed ourselves. We swore never to repeat their cruelty. Sentient species do not own their fellow beings. Freedom is our most basic right," Optimus stated firmly, his regal baritone filling the entire hangar.

"Can one mech oath swear to multiple femmes? Protect a group of them?" The supply officer on the main floor asked, standing by Hound's feet. The Autobots laughed, chirping in their native language.

"No. There have never been enough femmes for that to be a concern," Optimus vented, his faceplates drawing together in to a frown. "There are even less now. Nevertheless, there have always been mechs willing to provide by tradition or out of friendship. Most femmes would not welcome the help, refusing at the point of a weapon in their pride."

" There are even instances where the femme initiated the mate oath. Taking a mech under her protection, once the war spread," Ratchet continued.

"Can they become…. partners? Ultra Magnus and Silverblade?" Epps asked the obvious question.

"They may under mutual agreement. It does happen but not expected," Optimus said after a pause.

"So," Will summed it up. "He's taking all the responsibilities without actually being her mate for?"

"Until they join the matrix. It is for their existence and beyond," Optimus said, effectively ending the discussion.

The Autobots chirped and clicked, discussing the situation and the humans odd questions. Roadbuster stayed to the side. His thoughts were on returning to Cybertron and fighting.

::I thought we were bad:: Sideswipe gestured over his way.

::Roadbuster? Good fighter, armed everywhere and a natural on the battlefield. Get him outside of combat and he goes all quiet:: Sunstreaker

::Withdrawn, depressed and easily bored. Femmes are drawn to him out of sympathy. Sure ain't looks with that paint job. My protoform silver was better than that on its worse day:: Sideswipe

::Wonder what would happen if femmes knew he spends all his free time planning battles? They talk to him thinking he is listening and understanding while blasted Decepticon parts float behind his optics:: Sunstreaker

::I wonder how a femme would get all his weaponry off. Carries more on his chassis than we have in subspace:: Sideswipe

The mech in question noticed their optics his way and grinned, swiveling his shoulder cannon up in greeting. He strode over, careful to step around the smaller bots with his heavily armored green feet. His bright orange body armor made several of them wince.

"You free for target range later? Heard Ironhide programmed a new do or be offlined battle scenario," he grinned, patting his wrist blaster.

"Always ready," Sunstreaker answered.

"I'd like to target Silverblade's mech," Sideswipe said without emotion.

"Ultra Magnus? I know. Dumb aft to tie himself down that way in war time. Good commander but not real smart. And that femme doesn't need him. Doesn't want a mech except for sparking, I know," Roadbuster commented, checking the targeting scope on his back rocket launcher.

Sideswipe blinked in confusion then flickers of red appeared in his optics as his processor began connecting bits of information.

::Optimus, Ironhide, Ratchet – Remove Roadbuster from my reach fast:: Sideswipe

::Why?:: Optimus swung his chassis their direction.

::I'm going to offline him. He was with Silverblade. I want his spark but I promised Estel to protect her. Can't do that in pieces from a formal duel where limitations keep us equal. I would not quit and he is too stupid to know when to:: Sideswipe sent, his mental tone quivering with rage. Sunstreaker moved behind his twin, ready to tackle as Ratchet moved smoothly in on the other side.

Optimus Prime strode over, grabbed Roadbuster's back collar rim and swung him up and around without effort.

::Did you spark with Silverblade?:: Optimus sent on his Prime frequency to him alone.

::Yah. So? Femme is still combat ready and Magnus problem now:: Roadbuster sent then yelled as Prime threw him bodily towards the main doors. Red showed in Optimus optics as his armored arms remained outstretched, hydraulics hissing with the strength used. The green and orange bot sailed through the air, crash landing as humans ducked and scattered.

"No!" Ratchet moved, triggering emergency stasis override in Sideswipe as the red mech lunged forward, swords sliding into his hands. The sight of Roadbuster falling triggered Sideswipe's battle systems. Sunstreaker caught his twin as he collapsed, easing his red chassis to the floor.

"Brig Roadbuster," Optimus ordered as the assembled Autobots stared at him, not understanding why their Prime had attacked and thrown a smaller mech. Or what Ratchet had done and why Sunstreaker thanked him instead of attacking.

"Charges?"Ironhide asked, securing Roadbuster in an arm lock, gears ratcheting with the pressure.

"None, it's for his protection until he leaves for Cybertron. His request is approved, effective immediately," Optimus growled.

_To be continued…_


	67. Chapter 67 Rules 153 to 204

Author's Notes: Will Lennox began adding rules for humans, WL Rule# and they appear at the bottom. Per reader requests, here are the next 50 plus rules as completed and posted. No story arc of events behind, **just the rules in sequence**. Rules 1 – 56 are in chapter 13, rules 57 – 102 are in chapter 28. 103 - 152 are in chapter 45. Hopefully no rules have been duplicated. Over 200 are a lot to review and compare each time.

153. Do not adopt human customs including but not limited to being a couch potato, slob or slacker. Do embrace their love of life, exploring and relationships being important.

154. Do not celebrate human holidays by repainting or transforming our forms beyond reasonable changes.

155. Do not impose corrective action on a fellow mech or femme that is excessive or cruel to the nature of the offense. We are sentient beings and know the difference between right and wrong. We should set an example for the humans. They are a young race and have much to learn.

156. Do not underestimate the human's reliance on plans and their inability to adjust when those plans fail.

157. Do not attack recklessly, foolishly or to show off in front of the humans, military or civilian. They offline faster and cannot move out of the way as easily. There is enough energon and blood spilt in war. Do not add to it.

158. When asked to describe a situation or battle scene, do not answer:

a. Bad, really really bad.

b. Uh, send every bot? And I do mean every bot.

c. We are so fragged!

d. Uhm, you didn't have any plans for later did you? You might want to cancel them.

e. OMP! *Oh my Primus!

f. Remember when you said nothing would ever top the Azvarius battle? This will.

g. All right, cannon blasting time!

h. Not good as in I just got my paint redone and now this ?!

i. Did I ever tell you how much I hate scouting missions? Because if I survive this, I am never doing one again!

j. Worse than the twins ever could have done, well maybe close to them…

k. Time to wrack and ruin!

l. Even my nightmares aren't this bad looking…

m. Uhm, does Megatron have a weak spot? Now would be the time to tell me where it is.

n. Tell my femme I love her and sorry I won't be coming back. (You will and know it, just want to party before returning to base to have her fuss over you)

159. Do not give any explanation or demonstration for human curiosity of a personal nature without permission from Autobot command. Especially regarding a medical subject.

160. Do not mistake a human question of wanting to understand how we or our functions work and the request to demonstrate the how with them participating. Screams of joy and fear often sound alike.

161. Do not endanger human passengers by demonstrating advanced skills, technology or through reckless disregard of their fragile nature. They place their trust in us and our programming. We must not betray that trust.

162. Do not underestimate the danger of impact injuries, especially to vital areas. Either human or transformer. Humans must be monitored for effects long term. Refer to Ratchet's guide for human injuries module upload.

163. When a human asks, 'did you encounter Decepticons?' and you, the transport, NEST human soldiers and fellow Autobots are obviously damaged, do not answer:

a. No, three kids with water super soakers punched through our armor and left char blasts.

b. Sparking last night with a femme. Told her she needed to ease up on the armor, too big for her hip plates.

c. This? The swiss cheese look is to support our local dairy farmers. What, were on a military base on an island? Hmm? Coral reefs look then?

d. Prank backfired. Apparently Megatron and Starscream have no sense of humor when being shot at.

e. Noticed huh? *Arm, both legs from the knee plates are missing*

f. Good guess. Now can you use your intellectual skills to find the number for med bay and call Ratchet!

g. Either that or I stole one of Ironhide's cannons while he was still holding the other one…

h. We decided to play Marco polo with energon rifles

i. Cheaper to get parts replaced than upgrade you know.

j. Wanted to give Ratchet, Red Alert, and Wheeljack a challenge this weekend.

k. Slipped and fell in a mud puddle filled with sharkticons.

l. I was looking for Sam and woke up Mikeala by mistake. *Bumblebee

m. Visited my local fan club and those fan girls are enthusiastic! *Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Ultra Magnus

n. Do you really expect me to answer that?

o. Let's see, I bagged one, still functional online so how about you remove it from the cargo hold by yourself and let me know what happens next?

p. This? Army Ranger group therapy.

q. Sale at the local superstore, opened at 6 am and was by the doors when they first opened.

r. Trying to outdo my record for most impressive battle damage *Optimus Prime

s. Femmes dig battle wounds and repair welds. *Ironhide

t. Time to get a new paint job and I thought, hey why not go all out?

u. Logical response is "Yes" but illogical is "my safety processor is offline and you look like a fun target *targets shoulder rifle* start running fleshling…". *Prowl

v. Encounter? As in to meet as an adversary or enemy and to engage in conflict with? What gave it away?

w. Missed the memo on get your aft kicked party at noon?

164. Do not alter holographic drivers into random shapes based on keywords.

165. Do not change holographic drivers to weather or atmospheric conditions.

166. Do not misjudge human intentions based on their habitual untruthfulness. Lying is expected and encouraged in their race.

167. Do not ignore or disregard battle preparations over former experiences and training. Every situation is different and a single detail can separate a "mission" from "merging with the matrix." Humans are forgetful and easily stressed; we are often their only backup and help.

168. Do not use advance logic, processing techniques or strategy with most humans. It will not work or be missed by their species entirely, creating confusion. They work primarily on emotion first and intelligence second.

169. Do not rely on human audio receptors and memory processors to record, store and retrieve given information in the future accurately, in a timely manner or to match our standards. "I forgot" is both an excuse and accurate summation and their inability to remember. Time and distance affect memories, even if only five minutes or moving five feet away, especially in regard to car keys, optical glasses, homework and other assigned duties.

170. Do not become frustrated at a human's lack of response when seeking information and do not ever use of the following human phrases when responding to a question, especially from a command officer:

a. Meh, do I look like a bot that cares?

b. Not my specialty to know that answer.

c. You have the same processors I do, go look up the answer.

d. That is for me to know and you to figure out. Back in my day, we found our own answers.

e. Funny, that was the final question on 'jeopardy for idiots' last night.

f. I am busy fixing my paint, ask me later.

g. When you find a Decepticon that wants the same answer, I will care. Until then I will be on the target range.

h. As a femme I help teach sparkling and youngling. You are way past that point, chassis wise at least.

i. Next upgrade and the information will upload. Now, not there.

j. I am a soldier not an information bot.

k. Duh, I don't know. You Skids? Nope, us neither.

l. Ask a human, keep them busy and out of our way.

171. Do not encourage the belief in mythical weapons including but not limited to light sabers, ray guns, proton blasters, skynet hover killers, predator metal shuriken, or similar devices. We are from Cybertron not Hollywood science fiction action stars.

172. Do not modify, alter or adjust human computers and related systems unless specifically asked to do so, have the changes cleared and authorized, however simple and easy their technology is to "fix."

173. Do not assume human command structure is based on skill, logic and dependability. Even the Decepticon system for determining assignments is better than the humans.

174. Do not become discouraged as humans on the same team, department or even in the same families do not progress. In the midst of crisis, they can unite as a whole and achieve incredible things.

175. When asked, 'what DID happen to all those people in Mission City with electronic implants when the Allspark...?' do not answer:

a. What people?

b. WHAT!? OH PRIMUS!

c. Members of your species have electronic implants?

d. Well, that depends entirely on what kind of implant they had... For example, have you ever seen that movie 'Alien'?

e. Fraggit! I KNEW we were forgetting something!

f. You REALLY don't want me to answer that...

g. Err...

h. Can I get back to you on that?

i. What do I care?

j. How am I supposed to know?! I wasn't even here at the time!

k. I'm sorry, my audio receptors seem to be malfunctioning. I thought I just heard you say that your race has electronic implants? Could you repeat the question please?

l. *stare at them uncomprehendingly until it fully processes then go running in a panic to Optimus*

j. Where do you think the new NEST maintenance director came from?

k. They work at the super stupendous toy factory now in the design department.

l. Out chasing lawyers and car salesman.

m. You really don't want to know other than think black plastic coroner bags.

n. Went to Hollywood to become a stuntman for action movies when his false leg changed and reshaped his lower body.

o. Frozen stasis until we can make the rest of them into an Autobot.

p. Got new implants and put up 'lost implants' signs on local bulletin boards and telephone poles for the originals.

q. Well, she has straight teeth and a few other Cybertronic based enhancement but hey, the braces came off years early.

r. Sold the little critters to the local circus.

s. They joined the Decepticons fan club and run their online website.

176. Do not obey human protocols, rules or commands when it endangers us or them. We hold more fire power, speed and strength than any rule they write. But be ready to answer to Autobot command and Prime afterwards. He is our final determining factor of if it was right or wrong.

177. Do not become the focus of the human need to obtain spiritual or mental enrichment. We are ancient and more knowledgeable but not the answer they need to solve their own problems. Refer them to medical staff, chaplains or fellow NEST team members.

178. Do not underestimate the human imagination. It can create beauty beyond description or perversion beyond despair. In that, they think like both Autobots and Decepticons. It is our duty to keep them focused on our way of existence while remembering freedom is the right of all sentient beings.

179. Do not become obsessed with relationships like the humans. A mistake on our part can last vorns and broken sparks affect every bot.

180. Do not assume our processor motivations coincide with human motivations however similar our races may appear.

181. Do not become frustrated with human misunderstandings regarding our complex mechanical nature. They do not understand all the buttons on their TV remotes that they use daily ,why would they understand alien complexities?

182. Do not befuddle humans with details about our mechanical existence that are unnecessary or not relevant. There are things they need to know and understand while other data must not fall into their hands.

183. Do not become confused, obsessed or bewildered by the human concepts of genders and sexuality. It is hidden and displayed, joked about and taken seriously, counseled over and not mentioned in mixed company. It is the most confusing aspect of their race but we know what we are, even if they don't.

184. Do not ignore Cybertronian customs and courtesy based on traditions not being relevant on earth. Location does not change manners and the humans can learn from our example.

185. Do not interfere in human relationships however close we are to both the mech and the femme. Their emotions cannot merge like a spark to heal and sync processors.

186. Do not agree to assist in human customs unless you know fully what you are agreeing to. Wars have been started over slight misunderstandings and the femmes of the human race are protective of their children and pets. One upset can scare even the Decepticons.

187. Do not assume human threats are a prelude to a true attack. They use words, threatening posturing and display weapons with no intention of violence while other humans will laugh, smile and stab you through your spark without hesitation.

188. When a human asks, "Do you know who my father is?" It is an expression referring to perceived superiority of the asker based on their parental unit, not a legitimate inquiry into a familial relationship in any way, shape or form. Do not answer:

a. What? Your mother didn't tell you? Then I will not either.

b. One ugly aft human apparently.

c. No, I'm guessing he probably doesn't want to know who you are either.

d. Not the Allspark.

e. Handwriting that bad on the birth certificate?

f. I know who my mech creator was. Why would I care about yours squishy?

g. According to evolution theory, a primordial ooze which is what you will be if you say one more word fleshling!

189. When a human asks are you mechanically based? Do not answer:

a. Biological is so ugly. Oops! Did I vocalize that out aloud?

b. We're the next stage of evolution which makes you obsolete.

c. Only way to be!

d. Like duh! Both my creators were mechanical, can't you tell?

e. Swapping parts is easier and faster than growing new ones. How long until your brain is grown and working ?

f. There was nothing better to choose from at the time.

g. Keep a secret? We only look mechanical.

h. Are you sure you're smart enough to understand an answer after asking a dumb question like that ?

i. The Allspark cube was metal and started our race so that means?

j. We are not mechanical, we are Cybertronian.

k. Why? What else would we be? Play dough?

l. Not sure, ask Ratchet, he would know.

190. Do not use our technology to "help the humans" especially Annabelle Lennox without thinking out the end results. They may appear to act or think like us but their race is very different and a small change can have big effects later.

191. Do not let personal hobbies or interests interfere with professional combat readiness. Humans collect odd items, do not become a collector for the sake of collecting. We are continually on the move and our alt modes have limited space capability.

192. Do not become so attentive to your duties your processors lock on that alone. War and repair take their toll on our strength and time but when we can pursue personal activities, remember family and bond brothers should always be first, middle and last.

193. Do not forget that our human allies are weaker and more fragile on the battlefield. They are fierce and tenacious making they seem more like us and will take chances our logic processors would forbid.

194. Do not judge an entire race of sentient beings based on a few encounters or a few of their kind. If humans had met the Decepticons first what would they have thought of us? How do you determine their view of us by what you do?

195. Ten things you want never to ask a Transformer:

1. After he asked, "Is this repair really necessary?" Ratchet did what to Ironhide?

2. Sideswipe? Why is there a fire hydrant wedged in the center of your front bumper? Was Annabelle driving again?

3. Are you sure Elita asked to borrow the ships anchor then asked if anyone had seen Optimus lately? I thought she was still mad at him.

4. Why are you missing your tires?

5. Blades, the rescue helicopter transform and Air Raid, an Aerialbot were trying to see how close they could come to the ground when who rolled up and began his transform?

6. Why is the Dinobot Grimlock wearing a saddle and reins?

7. You let Wheeljack enhance the femme's spark chambers to create sparklings without testing the design first?

8. Did you inform Sarah Lennox about cold affecting Transformers?

9. You did know Bumblebee is the sparkling of Optimus Prime when you verbally insulted his creators before tackling and fighting with him?

10. Why would I accept a bribe of ten thousand Cybertronian credit to not report this?

196. Ten things you never want a Transformer to say to a human:

1. Stuff that fruit pie in your mouth and hide! Ratchet is coming. *They will choke and make a mess

2. Wait, that wasn't a human I just stepped on was it?

3. Quick, hide me from Elita One! *Optimus Prime

4. That is not a Cybertronian clock, that is the countdown to the Decepticon bomb going off. RUN!

5. Get another crowbar or a slagging crane if necessary! They're still wedged together! Hang on Blades, we'll get you out of Ultra Magnus grill yet.

6. Have you seen any of our datapads? They are all missing. Wait, have you seen the twins or Prowl?

7. Hide me from the femmes! They're all spark happy!

8. What do you mean you let Sarah borrow a tank of liquid nitrogen?

9. The human femme that slapped you for that comment, was the hologram of Chromia. And we never forget.

10. Why is every rescue and fire vehicle heading towards Wheeljack's lab?

197. Do not involve other bots in your pranks when they are unwilling or unsuspecting. You are in enough trouble when caught without risking a friendship over it. The victim of the prank and their revenge is another matter and another rule.

198. Do not speak of a private matter in a public area. The humans are overly curious and consider no topic or area off limits, even when marked with red and black tape, electrical voltage current signs and a do not touch sign. (Proven by nine humans shocking themselves out cold on Volt's energy whip the twins stole and left in the middle of the lunchroom, labeled with the above warnings.)

199. Do not hide pain or be ashamed of needing help from teammates or Autobot command. The human culture has entire realms to helping and being helped though we should avoid radio call in shows, public forums including but not limited to Dr Phil, Jerry Springer and anger management classes.

200. Do not review, upload or download confidential material regarding the Autobots, NEST or incidents that occur therein that could become a potential security leak in public places including libraries, cyber cafes, or personnel smart phones.

201. Do not use time in med bay for anything other than to recover, get repairs and reset your systems. No work for Prowl, no designing for Wheeljack, no commanding by Prime and no mischief for the twins. Ratchet can repair new injuries like wrench dents alongside of older battle marks.

202. Do not question a human femme's protectiveness, intelligence or challenge one to prove herself. You would not do that to an Autobot or Decepticon femme and survive either.

203. Do not close your processors to defining human existence into narrow categories. They are an unpredictable race and capable of changing and learning.

204. Do not become unduly upset when a human asks if it's possible to build them a human driven robot based on our protoform or transform. Remind them sharing advanced technology is forbidden by the treaty and do not respond by saying:

a. What, are we not good enough for you? Don't us around anymore, isn't that it?

b. Aren't you're species dangerous enough already without such a thing?

c. You trying to start something here?! I'll tear you apart for asking me that! *Ironhide

d. Like you could figure out how to turn it own let alone fight with it. Really? Figured out all the buttons on the TV remote you use daily?

e. Why waste time on something that will fall apart in less than five of your minutes built by the lowest contracted price after how many endless delays and court battles to build it in the first place?

f. And where would you get the technology for the helmet that's the other half the control...oh no you don't, you are not dissecting me for that!

g. And let you get claustrophobic once it transforms into its robot mode? I think not.

h. Your race is not ready for such advanced toys...I mean weapons.

i. Stand there blinking, then burst out laughing, saying it was a 'good joke.'

j. Of course, but it'll take a few centuries to get it right, give or take a decade or two. *Wheeljack

k. You watch way too many cartoons and science fiction shows.

l. Are you nuts? If you develop it, the other nations around the world will want them too, and that would lead to a whole new arms race on this planet. Didn't your species go through that already?

m. I'll want royalties once they're off the assembly line.

n. And what would you fuel it with? Talk about sky high gas prices.

o. If you get maimed or killed by that thing, then be my guest. I've already got a bet going on when your species would ask for that. Now that it's closed, I've got a new bet going, and that's on your chance of survival with one of those things. Oh, by the way Ratchet owes me big time.

205. Do not attempt to change what you cannot and realize human behavior is irrational, unplanned and not common. We have friends as well as enemies among their race.

_**WL Rule # 1**__ – Do not be afraid to ask the Transformers for reasonable help on or off the battlefield. _

_**WL Rule # 2**__ - NEST team members should not lie or encourage 'white lies' in their fellow soldiers and never to the Transformers. _

_**WL Rule #3**__ While NEST and the Autobots are part of our lives, do not let it become your only life. Marriage and children with a separate home are possible, even in this war. Hard to do but worth every effort. _

_**WL Rule #4**__ Don't bug the Transformers with stupid, silly human size ideas. One of them #%Q% off is not worth satisfying a question of curiosity. Their weapons are bigger, their reach longer and you cannot run faster than a targeting lock. _

_**WL Rule # 5**__ - Do not underestimate the size, speed and power of Cybertronian weapons. _

_**WL Rule # 6**__ Transformers try to blend in with us and our customs but are not human. Their actions reflect their concern for our well being, not that they share our weaknesses. _

_**WL Rule # 7**__ Transformers look like cars but their parts are not available at the local parts store so don't assume those parts are easy to replace or adjust._

_**WL Rule# 8**__Never prank a Prime unless you know he will laugh at it. You do not anger the biggest, most war experienced, intelligent bot and expect to use the excuse, 'we thought it would be funny,' and expect to remain online._

_**WL Rule# 9**__ Never upset a budget liaison without being prepared for the consequences. They have no sense of humor and your budget can be cut down to cardboard boxes, two screwdrivers, crayons and a shoelace. MacGyver we are not. NEST needs weapons and replacement parts._

_**WL Rule# 10**__ Do not underestimate a wife or girlfriend's strength or temper just because they seem nice when around us. And remember to warn the Transformers! They think their vast knowledge and handling the femmes of their race equips them to handle ours. Don't let them get killed because of that. _

_**WL Rule# 11 **__Just because we understand the Transformers and think they are wicked cool doesn't mean everyone else will. Forget secrecy and national security, they deal with enough without screaming fan girls, conspiracy theorists and the media wanting to prove they exist and why they should return Elvis and Bigfoot. _

_**WL Rule# 12**__ Experience, skill and commitment are more important to Transformers than delegated authority or assigned titles. Bumblebee is their youngest and best scout. Older or bigger does not always mean better but never tell Ironhide, Chromia, Optimus, Elita and Ultra Magnus that._

_**WL Rule# 13**__ We have been fighting for thousands of years with ever increasing rules and official procedures. To the Transformers, survival and their friends are all that matter. Everything revolves around that, not following procedures. They follow our rules when they want for our sakes, not because they have to obey or are under our control. Never forget that. _

_**WL Rule# 14**__ The Autobots can research any and all information on our behaviors, likes and actions from the internet but information does not mean they understand what we are doing. Never assume they know what to do based on the why behind a situation. _

_**WL Rule # 15**__ Any changes to Annabelle's possessions using Cybertronian technology must be cleared with Autobot command and both her parental units, no exceptions. Including piggy banks._

_**WL Rule# 16**__ Do what it takes to survive in a Transformer battle. No handheld weapon or body armor we have comes close to theirs. The Decepticons are faster, stronger and could care less if our entire planet is toast. We are brave enough to be on the battlefield, smart enough to know when we are outgunned and clever enough to find a way to survive even if it means retreating. _

_**WL Rule #17**__ Our race is not known for sharing or intelligent decisions. Do not let idiots ruin our relationship with the Transformers. They have saved our world and will die before letting us, why should we not do the same for them? _

_**WL Rule #18 **__Do not expect the Transformers to be emotionless, logic driven robots. They suffer loss, feel joy and pain, know hope and have endured thousands of years of war. You would treat a fellow soldier with respect when upset and the Autobots more so. _


	68. Chapter 68 A reason to fight pt 1

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. And remember to add _story alerts_ and _author alerts_ to stay up with new additions. I've noticed with ff net doing upgrades new stories may take hours or a day to appear where an alert appears within minutes in the e-mail though the link may not always work at first.

Thanks to a reader for the idea of Optimus and multiple lines inbound then mixing one up. I would give credit but after all this time I forgot who! Sorry. This chapter is more Prime centric but it works. Went through a few dry days on ideas then scrapped the original version of this chapter and three variations of it beyond that. Writing can be a fickle labor of love. Onward to oops and oh nos.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

_206. Do not use our techniques on human made substances. They are weaker, inferior designed and unable to handle stresses we consider normal for a sparkling. _

Major Will Lennox examined the three cargo containers on the docks and sighed. Each were stacked exactly within the painted boundaries and sealed with military security tape. It was the jagged holes dead center near the top of each one that required his presence to countersign before the inspections teams could open them. "Why are there puncture marks on them? The loading crane malfunction? Attack at sea off the coast of Somalia? Metal eating tribbles from space?"

"Crane was down, repair parts are in cargo box number two, crate nine, third row, second stack level of cargo container LJT-0929," the dock boss grinned, his clipboard tucked under his arm and the radio crackling away in his other hand. "Had Transformer help."

"Ironhide?" he guessed, countersigning the required inspection forms.

"No blast marks, no weapons fire," the man pointed out, wiping a sweaty brow under his hard hat.

"Optimus is too precise, Silverbolt is on a mission, no other bot is big enough," he murmured then noted the half rounded pattern to the marks. "Those aren't?" he trailed off as the dock boss nodded. The man accepted the forms, adding them to the stack on his clipboard.

"Good day Major," he saluted before ordering the unloading teams.

Hound opened the passenger door of his green jeep alt mode without a word. His sensors had identified the source of the marks immediately and loaded the image into memory for fun. "Main hangar express now departing," he quipped, closing the door. Engaging his engine, he drew power and rolled forward, navigating around the humans and their unloading equipment.

Hound drove the Major to the human sized door then transformed once he was clear of his alt mode. 'I have got to hear the reason,' he thought.

"Hey!" Major Lennox yelled once inside, singling out a particular Transformer. "What did you do to those cargo containers?"

"Me Grimlock got a grip like puny human said to," the red and yellow mech stated.

Lennox sighed, "Get a grip is a slang phrase not instructions."

Prowl immediately sub spaced a datapad into his hands for a notation.

"Another new rule, no doubt," Sunstreaker moaned.

"Not a rule, notes to reference," the second in command corrected.

"You make notes to make the rules?" Sideswipe asked, his tone incredulous sounding as both he and his yellow twin looked over the mech's shoulder at the screen.

"The exact wording requires due diligence to incorporate the intention," Prowl said then sighed at the blank looks in the faces of the mechs nearby. "It needs to cover all you do."

"You need a hobby," Ironhide grunted, continuing to clean a cannon gear.

"I am returning to my security office. Try to keep out of trouble. The brig is being cleaned for the human inspection next joor," his optics focused on the twins.

_Note # 14 Never tell a Dinobot, especially Grimlock 'to get a grip.'_

_Note # 15 Keep explanations about the rules simple and concise. Detail is not appreciated. _

Outside, Prowl considered transforming to his state patrol car alt mode. He glanced up at the sun, feeling its warmth down to the micro layers of his protoform below his armor. 'Nice day, I'll walk.' Every human passed was bio scanned to confirm their identity, clearance level and assigned duty or task.

Looking both directions even as he confirmed motion signals, Prowl crossed the road lanes of the tarmac. He noted Blurr mid step, deep in recharge on the tarmac edge. Pausing, he ensured the blue mech was clear of the designated traffic area before continuing.

Proximity warnings triggered, and he responded automatically jumping behind the nearest warehouse structure, crouching to hide his height. Bluestreak rolled into view in his Audi A6 alt mode before rolling away between the next set of buildings. Prowl remembered Bluestreak's fist transform choice, a Datsun 280 z. Optimus had patiently listened for twenty earth minutes before ordering him to find a more "modern" choice.

Prowl stopped before the med bay doors, keying in the entry code. In med bay, Ratchet finished straightening a mynar protected document on his wall. "Repair Rules 101" was engraved on it in silver.

"I never meant for the rules to be copied," he grumbled, striding over.

"I am not copying them, only borrowing the idea behind them," Ratchet explained even as the blue color in his optics twinkled.

Prowl faced the chart, reading.

_# 1 Injury caused by Decepticons - repairable but move faster next time. Or both the Decepticons and Autobot Chief Medical Officer will be after you._

_# 2 Injuries caused by stupidity - If you are still online then you are smart enough to learn how to do your own repairs. If offline - then not repairable except by the ancient Primes and matrix. See Appendix U for Unbelievable acts of stupidity. _

_# 3 Injuries caused by extremely upsetting another bot - refer to rule # 2 unless said bot was Ironhide. Refer to Rule # 4_

_# 4 Upsetting Ironhide - you will be placed under a ten joor self-offlining preventive watch and restrained to the nearest medical recharge berth. What else could be a reason for upsetting him than self-extinguishing of your own spark?_

_# 5 Injuries caused by a prank - not limited to but including the twins, either set, Bumblebee and Hound - repairable and able to repaint unless too messy. Attend to wash racks then request my help. I run med-bay not a mop and bucket._

_# 6 - 25 to be determined._

"You should never leave numbers undone," Prowl commented thoughtfully.

"Why? You don't believe it encourages the rule to be filled in?"

"On the contrary, you will run out of numbers and add more after, thus changing the border and margins of your document," he explained, setting down the report datapads and picking up the outbound.

_238. Do not test weapons, technology or any Cybertron made device outside of the target range, the research lab or beyond dragging range of med bay. (Was this rule really necessary?)_

_239. A Prime is not to experiment with weapons, technology or Cybertron device until said object has been cleared by fellow officers and medical staff. (Any exceptions to this rule have to be cleared with Elita and then documented when and if you are able to leave med bay following that conversation)_

"What is in the trailer? More budget and governmental regulations?" Optimus asked, seeing pallets of white record boxes covering the entire south end of the tarmac.

"More Sector 7 records. The ones Simmons couldn't steal. Sent here after another warehouse was closed. They're probably the reason the rainforest is stripped. Everything recorded on paper in triplicate after stealing microchip technology from you guys," Sam said disgustedly.

"Waiting on a replacement forklift. Last one stripped a gear from the excessvie weight and is in the motor pool currently," Master Sergeant Epps explained. "We need to move this in the next hour for Silverbolt to return. He could land on the spare airfield but has important passengers."

"Mikeala is onboard. Staying this week on base for my winter break," Sam admitted, blushing at the wolf whistles and cat calls from the soldiers.

"Allow me," Optimus stated, amused at the human's reactions to a relationship the Autobots equated to spark mated. Transforming down into his Peterbilt alt mode, he backed under the trailer. Parts transformed, spinning and rising to connect to the trailer tongue. The red and blue flame semi roared to motion, pulling the trailer ahead before backing suddenly, slamming himself to a stop. The cargo pallets, now unsecured flew out the back and crashed to the ground. Transforming, he stood and surveyed the scattered pile. "Unloaded fast and efficiently."

"You know, that reminds me of something I have wanted to ask you," Sam started. Optimus nodded, kneeling by the boy. "When Megatron had me in that abandoned factory, you and Bumblebee crashed through to save me." His eyes darkened with emotion.

"What is your question Sam?"

"How did you get all your weight on the roof? Bumblebee crashed through the wall but you were above, no warning and no sound. The ceiling never creaked and it was near collapse from age and abandonment. You don't fly and you drove there. How, without falling through it, did you get into position let alone the entrance you made?" the human asked, his face alive with curiosity.

Chuckling, he rose to his twenty eight plus height, pulling his arms back to emphasize his chest and armor enhancements. "I'm afraid that is not an easy answer."

"Meaning what?" the boy asked.

"That is for me to know and you to find out. Ask your guardian. He may demonstrate," Optimus instructed. "If you will excuse me." He strode eastward, following the path of a driverless rose colored convertible that had rolled through minutes before.

Halfway across base, Elita transformed to her bi pedal mode to examine the small grey circular device Hound held in his green armored palm. "Are you sure Wheeljack safety tested this?"

"Yes, and Ratchet, Hoist and Red Alert all cleared it. This little baby tracks to the largest metal source and links to the gravitational ability of the planet it's used on."

::Like a gravity net?:: Bumblebee asked over comm.

"Precisely," Hound said, pushing on the different colored buttons. They all flashed brightly before the object began humming. Both Elita and Bumblebee started to move then froze as the ball levitated, turning their direction.

::No bot move:: Bumblebee

"This is bad," Hound said then Optimus strode into view. They each tried to warn as the large mech appeared and failed.

"Look..." was all Elita had time to utter before the ball whacked into Optimus chest plates, covering him in glowing ribbon patterns. He stiffened before crashing chest first into the pavement, sending concrete debris pieces flying.

"…out," she finished. Rushing to his side, her spark reached for his, feeling a life pulse back. Bumblebee knelt by her, making a keening sound. "Stop that 'Bee. He's temporarily offline. Thankfully, his mass smashed the weapon. Online reset in five astro seconds or we will rekey it ourselves."

::Quick, humans are coming:: Bumblebee warned, his advanced scout systems detecting them first.

"Bad and bad," Hound said as his systems confirmed the lifeform reading.

"Do something. They can't see him like this," Elita commanded.

"What do you want me to do? He's too heavy to lift!" Hound exclaimed.

"Holograms! Make him Ironhide, me Chromia and you two hide behind a wall. Now!" Elita ordered, pulling Optimus limp arms up and over her shoulders.

The humans went out and around the two large blue metal dumpsters and stopped, gaping at the sight of the two alien robots making out like human teenagers. Ironhide's black arms were wrapped around her neck as she leaned over him on the ground.

Her head turned to focus bright blue optics on them. "Well?"

"Uhm, just cutting through to the mess hall," Captain Graham began, raising a hand and looking anywhere but at them. Sergeant Michelson's mouth opened and closed like a fish as he struggled with what to say.

"Then continue a different path… or join in… but get moving!" Chromia said, the command snap in her vocal tones. Neither noticed her voice was Elita's higher register and not Chromia's rougher tone. Both men blushed before running back the same direction.

The blue trash dumpsters shimmered then disappeared, revealing Optimus' blue armored feet pads and legs as the holograms faded.

"Join in?" Hound echoed, raising his eyebrow plates.

"Not the best line but it worked," the femme mumbled. "Help me roll him on his side. The manual reset is under his left back shoulder plate. Had to move it for the matrix interlink." She removed the outer armor before triggering the cable connections.

Optimus optics flared to life as his mouth plates moved but no sound was heard.

"Prime, you okay?" Hound asked as Elita resealed the shoulder armor.

CLICK CLACK CLICK SNICK

"What did he say?" Hound asked, looking over at the others.

::No idea. Sounds like a sparkling but I don't recognize the words:: Bumblebee

"I'm calling Ratchet now," Elita vented.

In med bay a breem later, she stretched her back cables back out. "I thought you said the anti gravity carry life could move him."

"He's here isn't he?" The medic pointed to the leader on his back on the medical berth.

::Half a klick more and I would be laid out too:: Bumblebee groaned as he tried to touch his feet pads. One foot was still shorter than the other with tightened cables. Hound had left, grumbling about serving under a human Prime in the future as they were smaller and easier to carry.

"Optimus will reset shortly, take time to stretch out," Ratchet stated.

"That is not an answer," Elita confronted him.

"The force pulled nearly every major part out of alignment. His nannites need time to realign the micro connections. He will reset shortly."

"That was your last answer. Shortly."

"That is still my answer," Ratchet growled, hefting a wrench.

"Unless you want your assistant to review emergency wrench removal procedures, I want a better answer," Elita threatened quietly. Bumblebee hid behind the med recharge berth Optimus rested on.

"There is not an exact time. Core systems will online first, followed by cognitive function. I can repair what the nannites do not. It will take at least a breem for him to be fully functional to pull data on the repair status. But he will recover fully, that is the easiest part," Ratchet explained.

::What is the hard part?:: Bumblebee asked.

"Explaining why and how when he wakes up in med bay. You might want to review emergency explanations to downed Primes," Ratchet teased.

_**Story Arc – A Reason to fight for the future (pt 1 )**_

That evening, Optimus turned the corner before his office and stopped, his spark fluttering in his chest. The Autobot femmes faced him, none of them happy. Arcee, Chromia, Firestar, and Elita had their weapons hidden but their intensity made him nervous.

"We want to discuss the status of Roadbuster," Chromia ground out.

"Sarah Lennox already requested ground up parts from the mech to make into a snow globe. I will restate what I told her. No. The matter will be dealt with justice and not emotional revenge," Optimus regal baritone filled the hallway.

"By sending him back to Cybertron, back home instead of offlining," Elita snapped. The rose colored femme commander's chassis was tense and stiff with contained fury.

"He has done nothing requiring the offlining of a fellow Autobot for," he stated, bracing inside, as the femmes seemed to radiate even more deadliness. "He did not force a femme, offlined none of us, has not injured or offlined a human in our care, and did not betray his Autobot oath."

"He betrayed Silverblade's trust in him. Coward," Firestar snapped as murmurs of agreement came from the others.

"I threw him in front of everyone, without his systems engaging as a warrior, humiliating him. Exiled back to the ruins of our world where Decepticons will never let him rest until this war is finished. He has offlined too many of their kind and is well known on the battlefield. He is exiled from the Autobots here, our allies and their vibrant living world, away from me as Prime and commander and no femme will touch him hereafter?" Optimus added, guessing they would ensure that.

"Only with a blade," Firestar snarled. The red and white femme sub spaced her energon throwing daggers into both hands.

"Or a blaster," Chromia finished.

"What else would you have me do?" Optimus asked, ready for any argument they would throw his way. The suggestions they gave nearly fried his processor. Then his comm receiver announced multiple signals inbound.

::Where are you? I'm in your office, alone with piles of budget forms:: Ironhide

::Need your command approval on keeping Prowl four more joors. Bugger is trying to sneak off again:: Ratchet

::Get me out of here! I can work without one wing door. Do you need help with anything? Anything at all sir?:: Prowl

::Humans tell me the new quarters are waiting on inspections before Silverblade and I can move in. Can you deal with them?:: Ultra Magnus

::I am facing four fragged off femmes and their ideas to deal with Roadbuster:: Optimus answered all four lines, careful to keep each one unaware of the others.

::Any good ones?:: Ironhide

::Yes and scaring me off my spark. Energon thirsty group. Maybe I should turn them loose on Megatron:: Optimus answered Ironhide first.

::Nah. Even you ain't that cruel:: Ironhide

::Call me if you need help finding all your pieces. If you can call by then. I'm going to sedate Prowl. Wing doors are a hassle to maneuver when the patient isn't moving:: Ratchet

The femmes continued, their anger abating as they expressed their outrage.

::Are you listening Orion?:: Elita privately sent, recognizing when her spark mates attention was split.

::Always to you my love. Boiling in hot processing fluids is extreme::: Optimus

::Not him, only parts. He would not miss those parts trust me:: Elita

:Prime, Ratchet is threatening to stasis me again. I protest! Work is not combat and you and Ironhide have fought with worse injuries:: Prowl

::Parts on our chassis are required or they would be optional 'accessories and not 'parts'. I defer to medical authority:: Optimus answered both Elita and Prowl at the same time

::Hah! Ratchet will give me the tools to shear off his:: Elita

Optimus put her line on silent hold, recognizing where her processor was heading. ::Magnus, I filed a request for immediate update and query on the holding status. Probably on a desk somewhere awaiting review:: Optimus

::You coming or they keeping you?:: Ironhide

::Come join me:: Optimus sent then realized two lines were active.

::Not in a pit's chance. I can hear their vocal tones from here:: Ironhide

::Very funny brother. Stopped sharing quarters when I made third frame. You snore and Elita does not share:: Ultra Magnus

::I do not snore. I'm a big mech. Vent heavy:: Optimus answered then focused outward as Elita finished. Chromia and Firestar finished their gruesome descriptions.

"I will consider these requests. However, Roadbuster left two breems ago for Cybertron. And no, you many not send a signal for Cybertron femmes to meet him. I will let you know when his confirmation signal from the nearest Autobot base is received," Optimus advised.

"Why do I care when he arrives?" Arcee demanded.

"Decepticons monitor traffic on and off world. His encasing may be detected and be blasted before reaching the surface or tracked and attacked upon arrival."

"He lives to fight. Probably think they are a welcoming committee for him," Chromia snarled, transforming. Her engine even sounded angry as she roared off. Arcee and Firestar transformed and followed her out.

Elita leaned against the wall, crossing one leg in front of the other. "I have never openly challenged your decisions as Prime. As much as I disagree with them you are fair. However much it costs you. Slag it."

Cliffjumper and Bumblebee walked down the hallway, passing by and raising a hand in greeting while continuing their conversation.

Elita switched back to her link with Optimus. ::Bumblebee cannot be the last of the sparklings::

::Wheeljack is designing again:: Ratchet

::Alert the human and Autobot rescue teams:: Optimus sent to Ratchet while wondering, 'How did being Prime mean I became a switchboard?' he thought, routing frequencies.

::We need to talk about our future. Our race cannot be lost. Did you know Chromia is considering trying for a sparkling?:: Elita

::Designs for increasing sparklings. It worked on Silverblade. Wants to upgrade the other femmes:: Ratchet

::Why is that a problem?:: Optimus answered both Elita and Ratchet

::If she fails, they will be emotionally devastated. And if they succeed, how will we handle it? Are you ready for me to try?:: Elita

::You want to be knee plate deep in sparklings?:: Ratchet

::I would welcome a hundred sparklings if they were functional:: Optimus answered both then watched Elita's jaw gears drop open.

She raised her hands, hesitantly moving forward until he smiled, folding his massive blue military grade armor around her rose plated ones. She vented softly, leaning into his chest. One hand stroked down her back plates, while he relaxed his upper cables to lean his head on top of hers.

"Truly?" the femme whispered.

He put everything else on hold and concentrated. She twitched as his passion and love for her, his very need to feel her presence in his arms flowed over their spark bond. "You are my spark's desire and creating a new life that is the best of us both is my greatest hope for the future," he murmured, his lip plates caressing over her armor.

::Tell Wheeljack Elita is the second upgrade. Chromia first:: Optimus

::Prime, you still functional or do I need to get a scrapper and bucket?:: Ironhide

:: Chromia is already spark carrying. Three earth days at most:: Ratchet

::I'm taking three mechs to investigate upgrading the NASA satellites. Roadbuster's signal faded in the outer atmosphere on their tech. We monitored out past Saturn. Tech team is ready to go::Ultra Magnus

::Primus! Picked a name yet?:: Optimus asked both Magnus and Ironhide.

::Name for what? Your replacement while being reassembled in med bay?:: Ironhide teased back.

::Core team one, no need to get excited. Routine mission:: Ultra Magnus

::I meant for your sparkling:: Optimus released Elita, keeping her frame encircled in his arms.

::Estel. Are you okay? You seem … odd:: Ultra Magnus

::Now why would I pick… :: Ironhide line went quiet. Both Elita and Optimus stared down the hall as the floor shook with a crash impact.

"Did he break or throw something?" Elita asked.

"No cannon fire," Optimus noticed after a few seconds.

"You don't think he pulled a Prowl?" Elita chuckled, stepping down the hall, keeping a firm grip on one of Optimus' hands, tugging him forward.

::Functional Magnus. Get back to you. Have a situation to deal with:: Optimus

::Understood. Picking up after the younglings?:: Ultra Magnus

::You have no idea:: Optimus

_To be continued…_


	69. Chapter 69 A reason to fight pt 2

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Thanks to lucky koi for rule suggestion # 230. Last story arc generated the most reader response yet. I was trying for a plot line not usually seen. Common is young femme finds mech, has a cute sparkling or two and everything is all wonderful in bot ville. Prime is always saying "humans are a race much like ours." So let's see how they handle the same problems we do. And life is never storybook perfect, for them or us.

On a brighter note, yes, Ironhide has found out he has a sparkling. Think you know what happened and will happen next? How right have you been so far on plots? Onward to intense feelings and surviving awkward situations.

SIC SIC SIC SIC SIC SIC SIC SIC SIC SIC SECOND IN COMMAND

_210. Do not carry or assist in the transport of contraband substances or banned prank items. And 'transporting to Prowl's office' or to 'turn into Prime' is not a valid alibi when caught. _

In his security office at Diego Garcia, Prowl released his armload onto the desktop, grabbing to prevent the hair spray cans from rolling off the edge. "At that height, they would explode. Be a fine mess to explain. If I don't see med bay for a thousand orns I will be content." He flexed his new wing doors at all angles, reveling in the sensor feedback then frowned. Movement registered at quarter speed. "Verify what full speed is later in a more open area," he processed. "How fast could have Ratchet have set them?"

Five cans of super strength hair spray, a white cowboy hat with pink feathers, a blowtorch, small woven cargo net, and four tubes of ladies fire engine red lipstick were sorted into the box, _"confiscated from the twins."_

"I have to monitor their online purchasing closer. I wonder if Mikeala wears this shade of lipstick. If not, there are female human personnel that could put it to use," the security officer rationalized, putting the lipsticks into his upper leg-carrying slot.

Four pumice stone scrubbers, three neon embroidered steering wheel wraps, a rubber practice grenade and one_ wide load_ yellow bumper sticker went into the box "_confiscated from humans."_

:: Autobots, human drill in five minutes. Test emergency crew response times:: Optimus

:: Wheeljack's lab explosion ain't enough of a test?:: Ironhide

:: As opposed to the cleanup crews you require with your temper and cannons?:: Hound

::Test is simulated cold weather response:: Red Alert

::Diego Garcia is 7 18 S, 72 24 E coordinates in the Indian Ocean, average temperature is 86 F daytime and 70 F over night with a prevalent wind, tropical vegetation and with a coral atoll forming a lagoon nearly twelve earth miles across and they are attempting a cold weather drill?:: Bluestreak

::Who came up with that idea?:: Wheeljack

::Human safety officer, assigned here for one solar month. Wants to verify all weather condition responses per government mandates. Should have heard the drills he rejected trying on the escort over:: Blades

::Every time we idiot proof this base they send an upgraded idiot:: Ratchet

The general alarm sounded, the human technician paging out all aid crews to Building F19 on the north side, by the lagoon spit. Prowl closed the inventory list on his datapad and rose, setting the security alarms remotely. Though not part of the treaty, the Autobots dutifully insisted on matching the humans in their activities, including drills. Blue optics scanned the running personnel and response vehicles, recording identity, their bio metrics and rating performance levels. Yells and swearing alerted his acute alien hearing something had already gone wrong. His speed increased as sounds of pain were identified.

Turning the corner, he panicked for a fraction of an astro second as his feet pads slid on ice. Battle systems onlined, speeding up processor reaction to prevent falling and redundant safeties calculated the direction to fall to avoid the downed humans in front of him. Two external comm lines lit half an astro second after that, one a distress call for human medical aid teams and one to all Autobots to avoid the ice field.

Prowl's chassis wobbled, feet pads extending claw tips to dig into the ice. Balancing, he straightened to his normal upright stance. Nine humans were down, two with injuries, though not serious to his medical scans.

"You're in the way!" A human screamed, wearing a bright orange safety vest over his grey shirt. "Team Leader" was spelled out in grey reflective tape middle stripe of the vest. He stood on the edge of the ice, wearing spiked cleats. "This is our test, not yours!"

"This expanse of ice creates an unnecessary hazard that..." Prowl began lecturing, focusing on the human out of courtesy. He noted the sudden dilation of the human's eyes and explosively fast pulse rate and respiration rise as terror. He recognized the energy signature the instant it appeared behind him but too slowly to avoid the collision as the other mech hit the ice.

KAWHAM ! CRUNCH!

First Aid, the Autobot medical assistant crashed into him, knocking Prowl forward. His legs rotated on the joints, allowing him to tip forward without strut breakage as his hands spread to brace over the downed humans. Cables and gears strained, whirring loudly with his weight and First Aids but he held. His newly installed wing doors bent and flexed to their max, sending ripples of pain. The humans below him gasped and curled inward, expecting to be crushed.

::GET OFF!:: Prowl sent then arched, trying to dislodge the other mech. He pulled his wing doors inward, slapping him.

"Oh my Primus!" Ironhide exclaimed out of optical range. Prowl felt the heavy tread vibrate through the ice underhand then the weight on his back and legs shifted away. Groaning, the black and white mech sagged, careful to stay above the humans. Medical warnings pinged as he shifted back to his knee plates. Silverblade moved into view, wrapping one arm around his waist plates on the left as Jazz braced him from the right.

"Easy Prowler, we gotch ya," he comforted. Her gentle hands touched his side panels, enabling temporary pain blocks and resetting pain sensors.

"Red Alert?" he asked, keeping his optics closed and offlined as they worked. 'Please Primus not med bay again. Please don't be that cruel,' he processed.

"Functional but stunned. You're reset in eight astro seconds. And your external comm line was disabled. Activated it. I'll let you delete the messages in the holding que. Are you busy tomorrow night?" Silverblade asked.

Optics opened and focused on her silver face. "I'm free. Why?"

"Game night. Skids and Mudflap challenged Sideswipe and Sunstreaker to a twister spin off but need another team in case of a tie breaker. You and Red Alert looked perfect when I arrived," she quipped. Jazz snickered, his optics hid behind his trademark visor.

"See?" He sent a photo image of the two of them on top of each other. "Courtesy of old Ironhide, first on the scene. And next time, warn us other bots. We all could have slipped and piled up."

"Wait, you're bleeding," Silverbolt said, holding her hand against his upper leg panel.

"Can't be," Jazz corrected. "We don't do red."

The panel opened to her touch, revealing a tube of crushed lipstick and the rest inside.

"You been holding out on us Prowler?" Jazz quipped.

"Try a coral pink shade. Blend better with your black and white coloring," Silverblade added.

'Primus, next time no med bay and no photos,' Prowl prayed, calculating the hole deep enough for him to crawl into and hide for the next orn.

_230. Do not believe, rely on or use as a reliable source mock documentaries,__movies, TV shows, 'podcasts', shorts, and other such media labeled 'Fiction', even if claimed otherwise. The degree of truth varies from one to the other; if in doubt, please contact Major Lennox or Wheeljack. _

"Know what I want?" Annabelle asked, scooping sand into her bucket mold.

"Hmm, more ice cubes in the energon?" Hound answered without moving from where he was reclining face down under the palm trees. Annabelle's sand castle shadowed the area as the breeze rustled the palms. The blue lagoon was quiet and calm.

"A polar bear," she said.

"They couldn't survive here. Too warm." Sam corrected, adjusting his baseball cap. He watched Mikeala as she slept under the sun awning, jealous of Wheelie snuggling in the crook of her right arm.

"Nun uh," Annabelle said. "My mommy watches a show where they had a plane crash and weird stuff happens and they keep meeting this big white polar bear in the jungle."

"That's a TV show, not reality sweetie," Hound said, opening one optic to wink at her.

"That's like saying you believe in UFO's," Sam shook his head then realized. "Ah, that is, I didn't mean to discredit you guys. You're known not unknown. Well, unknown to the world but not to us."

"I believe in UFO's. Cosmos is a spaceship." Annabelle affirmed, throwing a scoop of sand at Sam. "He is a mini bot but fights too." A clip of laughter played as Bumblebee clapped his metal hands together.

"Take her side," the youth grumbled at his guardian. "Where are you going?"

"I need some shells for my sand cannons. Going to shoot them out into the water," she turned, her blue eyes shining before running towards the beach itself. Her bright green swimsuit was tracked by both Transformer scouts.

::She was kidding right?:: Bumblebee

:Sand has no concussive force. Been around Ironhide too long. Wait until she is a teenager and starts dating. He will get his then:: Hound sent while chuckling. Her shout had them on full alert.

"I found something come look! It's metal. Feels big," she pointed down. Hound and Bumblebee vented, climbing to their feet to investigate. After the stun grenade incident any object found was identified before poking or moving. Sam snuggled closer to Mikeala, relaxing out on her left side.

"Hey beautiful, we're alone for a minute. How about a kiss?" he crooned.

"Not my type," Wheelie answered, optics peering up and over her chest.

"Wheelie!" He hissed, reaching out a hand to grab him as Mikeala snagged his wrist with her hand.

"Sam, he's not hurting anything. Where's Annabelle?" She asked, sitting up.

"Found metal in the sand," he pointed their direction then grinned as Mikeala grabbed his shoulder, pulling him in close while retaining her wrist grip.

"Be nice to Wheelie. It makes me happy and you don't want me unhappy," and kissed Sam soundly.

The little girl and the two Autobots watched as Hound used his depth radar. "It's a plane. World War two by design. Probably crashed years ago and they left it. No reason to uncover it," the green scout determined.

"I want to see it," she pouted.

"It's pretty deep," Hound showed her the holographic image. The plane was on its side, nose tip down, the upper wing broke off, the tip showing through the sand for her to find.

"That's okay. I know what to do," she closed her eyes, breathing in and out. The sand trembled, causing the Transformers to back up as the plane and pieces rose out of the sand.

::Her Prime gift over metal:: Bumblebee

It settled, nose facing Annabelle. "Can we show Ironhide?"

The Autobots and soldiers wasted no time in moving the plane and parts into a spare hangar. They half argued about restoring it or displaying it as an exhibit. In the end, the wing was attached back on and hung from the ceiling as a historical exhibit. Officials and approved visitors liked it until Mudflap and Skids saw an old movie about a plane crew lost in a crash and becoming ghosts.

Prowl had to create four rules from that incident but it was the list that appeared taped to the end of the display guide that got his attention before that.

_You know you're addicted to Transformers when:_

_26. You buy dinosaur toys for your kids or grandkids and paint them to look metal instead of scaled. _

_27. You are watching a movie with friends and the bad guy throws a hammer or knife and you snort, "Please! Wrenches are so much better for throwing. Where do the Hollywood types get these ideas?" Then smile when everyone turns to stare at you. _

_28. You have ever gone into a bar and asked what their best high grade is._

_29. Overhear a conversation about vacationing and touring Hoover Dam and you think of hidden rooms, a giant cube and Megatron on ice. _

_30. Using the expressions, "I'll drive" or "let me drive" when demonstrating or assisting a fellow coworker instead of "I'll help" or "let me try." _

_31. You visit the dentist and he is wearing a scrub top with vehicles on it. You automatically begin matching names to alt modes. Car carrier is Ultra Magnus, Semi with different paint job is Optimus Prime, Ambulance is Ratchet, and cop car with black and white paint is Prowl. _

_32. Someone asks what the best part of your job is and your first thoughts are: exotic travel locations, the amount of stuff I blow up, working with mondo size aliens and never needing a babysitter for my kids again. _

_33. Use the term "bot" instead of "person" as in 'what do I look like, an information bot, messenger bot or medical bot?'_

_34. Every car or truck toy you buy ends up with an Autobot symbol and every model airplane gets a Decepticon symbol while every fighter jet is repainted to look like an Aerialbot. _

_35. Every time you type energy it becomes energon, feminine becomes femme and optimal becomes Optimus. Worse, your spell checker accepts it and does not flag it for correction on official reports._

_**Story Arc – A Reason to fight for the future (pt 2)**_

Optimus stared, his jaw gears gone slack at the colossal hole in his outer office wall. "That's it," Elita murmured. "No more watching Saturday cartoons for the mechs. Leaving an Ironhide shaped hole instead of the nearest exit."

"I thought he offlined temporarily when I heard the crash impact," he said, picking up a rather large piece of debris.

"That is Prowl and his logic glitch. Poor mech."

"Prowl or Ironhide?"

"The spark Chromia is carrying. If he does that," she gestured towards the wall. "When finding out about the sparkling, what will he do when it really needs him or is in danger?"

::CHROMIA!:: Ironhide sent, brushing off brick pieces from his shoulder plates.

::Where, what? Are we under attack?:: Chromia answered immediately, anticipation in her tone.

::Meet me in med bay now femme!:: Ironhide

::Are you hurt? Twins do the ultimate prank? Prime down?:: Chromia

::Keep me from offlining that medic. You will need him for our sparkling:: Ironhide

::WHO TOLD?:: Chromia snarled. Ironhide slid to a halt halfway to med bay and winced. His spark mate used that tone and fortresses leveled, Decepticons fled and medics grabbed their hammers to pound out the dents in his armor. Changing direction, his heavy frame pounded across the cement as humans jumped to the side.

::Prime mentioned it. You could have told me:: Ironhide sent, allowing a level of hurt to overlay their spark bond.

::Check your schedule big blast. Me, you all evening alone in our quarters. I had planned to tonight:: Chromia sent back, disappointment and excitement in her tone.

::I want the sparkling and you. Now I lost three days of knowing and celebrating:: Ironhide

::You mean that?:: Chromia

He pulled their door open, optics shining fully. "Yes." The door slid closed on their private moment.

In his office, Optimus finished digitally signing the repair request to maintenance.

"A hologram of the ocean, or a forest or even a simulated view of Cybertron?" Elita suggested, using both hands to frame a square image on the wall over the boarded up hole.

"Holograms?" Prime's lip plates turned up into a smirk, activating his holographic database to search for the best data file. "Have you seen my hologram? Me as a human?"

"Mmmmmm, should I?" she asked. "Knowing you, it's a top of the factory line form. Out do the other male humans while demonstrating the best of what their species could achieve."

Recognizing the accuracy of her statement, he hesitated. The largest data file opened, transforming energy and nannites into a solid three dimensional figure as his optics dimmed.

"Ohh! How cute," she gushed, kneeling down. His hologram was a toddler by age with little brown boots, blue coveralls with a little red truck sewn on the front pocket. Curly brown hair poked out from under a mini train conductor's cap. Bright blue eyes above a pert nose focused on her.

"I cannot believe you chose a youngling. That is so original and non-threatening," Elita said. "Makes me want a sparkling that size."

"That can be arranged," he smirked, adding a file tag to that hologoram id in case he ever found it again.

_to be continued..._


	70. Chapter 70 A reason to fight pt 3

Author's notes: Thanks for the reviews. Sorry for the delay in updating this fic. Had writer's block for almost two weeks on the rules but inspiration for other Transformer mini fics, also under my writing name hummergrey here on fan fiction. Then yesterday the writing block on this fic finally broke! Yaw hoo! We are back rolling along. Having said that, yes, I know there is at least one mistake in every chapter. I lost my beta reviewer months ago and I still work on these late at night, usually trying to post before I drag off to bed and something always gets past.

Thanks to fantasyaddict101 for her suggestion last chapter to the frequencies overwhelming Optimus and him accidentally telling Ironhide about the sparkling. I try to use suggestions but still have a backlog. The Jazz shirt was designed by someone else, the Bee shirt by me. And to answer a recurring question. Is there an end in sight to this fic? Nope, not that I can see. It is getting a bit out of hand chapter size but I have an idea on that. Have to stay tuned and keep reading. Onward to life being as complicated as the beings around you.

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_209. Do not assume humans will appreciate, be grateful or even acknowledge help from our species. They are independent to the point on being irrational, especially in non-military matters._

In the human guest quarters at Diego Garcia, clocks clicked off the time, laptops left alone dinged new incoming mail and a knock on the second largest guest suite went unanswered. The high ceiling room had normal human sized furniture on one side, a large open space for both height and width on the other. Only the bedroom area was accessible by a human or a mini bot though even Bumblebee would have to crawl on hands and knee plates, wing doors tucked nearly flat to get inside. Once there, he would have no room to turn around or stand.

Sam crept across the open living area, tapping on that bedroom door, peering around it slowly with a mischievous grin on his face. 'Prefect, Mikeala left it unlocked.' He walked in, hands juggling the small gift wrapped box back and forth. Her clothes lying across every available flat space caught his attention.

"Laundry day, never likes to waste energy in the dryer. Wait, that is so cool!" He exalted, noticing the tank top closest to the headboard. Sleeveless, the main base was white with the front wide swath of bright blue with a single red line down the center of that. A red Autobot symbol hovered above a thick white number 4 in the very center of the stripes. "Jazz's new alt mode colors and number. Never thought he'd be the race car type. Then again, Optimus and Prowl overruled him on the DeLorean alt mode. But she made the shirt look like him, in a way."

Delighted, he sat the gift box on the dresser, looking at each shirt. "Yellow polo with two large black stripes down the front and music notes around the neck color for Bumblebee. Red jacket with white squares for front pockets and blue trim for Optimus. These are great. Wonder why I don't have any? Nearly every bot is here." His phone beeped, displaying a text from Bumblebee.

_* Med mouse leaving med -bay. Better scurry *_

"Time to go," Sam chuckled, "before Mikeala catches me." His phone began playing the ringtones, _"If you need someone, call me when you're down,"_ and he sighed, flipping it open.

"Hi mom. Hold on, I'm in the middle of... changing." Sam snuck back to the main hallway, shutting the outer door. "Yes, I have clean underwear and socks on." Leaning on the wall, he continued talking, never noticing Mikeala and Wheelie approaching from the other direction. "Yes mom, I understand. Yes, I will call soon, love you too. Bye now," he closed it with a sigh.

"Problems Sam?" Mikeala teased, recognizing his exasperated look.

"Mom saw my Autobot tattoo in the beach photos I sent her."

"Never told your femme creator? Sneaky boy. Not as slow processor as you appear huh?" Wheelie teased, optics stretching up towards him.

"And?" Mikeala verbally prodded as she keyed the door open, letting Wheelie roll inside first. The tiny blue guardian scanned the entire suite, before waving for her to enter.

"Mmmmmm, okay I guess. Not that I needed their permission or anything but…" Sam admitted as he followed her inside, flopping on the couch.

"Why that symbol?" She guessed, removing her lab coat and undoing the ponytail that kept her hair bound.

"No, more what else had I not told them?" Sam winced. "You know my parents."

"You never mentioned," she started counting off her fingers as she sat on the couch by him. "One, being adopted into the Autobot Prime family? Two, seeing the language of the Primes glyphs, or three, knowing where any Transformer is around you? Four, alien tracker under your shoulder blade?"

"Those trackers can save your fragile skins," Wheelie reminded, balancing on the padded arm of the couch behind Mikeala.

"Wait," Sam leaned around her to glare. "You said trackers, plural as in who and how many?" He exchanged a look with Mikeala before they both turned to stare.

"Epps got his via Wheeljack, Graham and Jorgenson from Hound though they don't know they have them. Will and Sarah Lennox from Ratchet but not Annabelle per Ironhide. Her Prime gift would lock onto it every time and her younger body might reject it. No tracker until she is older and Ironhide will add hers. Yours glyph boy thanks to that yellow bot."

"And me?" Mikeala confronted him, and then sighed as his optics curled down.

"You little robot-rat"! Sam yelled while reaching for him. "You had your mechanical mitts on my girl?"

His wheels slid him backwards off the couch and across the carpet to hide under the desk. "Not me, but med bay. It was for warrior goddess' own good! Talk to Wrenchit! He did, he did it, not me. Though," the little bot moved his jaw and narrowed his optics at her. "I wouldn't have minded."

"You'll need Ratchet to repair you when I get done," Sam started then stopped, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry Wheelie. I had no right to threaten you. You are trying to help. You make Mikeala happy and I have no right to interfere or make choices for her."

"Sam? Are you all right?" Mikeala rose and approached him slowly.

"My Prime gift is diplomacy, roughly translated. Optimus had a talk with me about it. I have responsibilities now and what I do or say can have consequences for all of us. Even when alone with you two."

"Wow Sam, you're growing up," she said.

"Finally, make adulthood in about a thousand orns at this rate," Wheelie added, rolling out and approaching but staying behind her.

"I find that … exciting. No man child to babysit while I work on… camshafts," she finished in a whisper. He shivered, reaching and pulling her close.

"Oh, that's gross! You fleshlings are so…..soft. Guardian abuse, guardian abuse! Making me watch that!" Wheelie complained, covering his optics with his servos as they kissed.

_You know you're addicted to Transformers when: _

_26. H__ave a baby on the way and think of names like Starflare, Darkstar, Sunburst_ an_d Orion because Robert, Alex, Marie and Susan seem so ordinary and plain._

_27. You see a flyer for a "transformation" self improvement workshop and wonder who is teaching it, Ratchet or Wheeljack._

_28. Yell at your human mate but greet your car in the morning and kiss your car goodbye each night. _

Prowl finished reading the list, noting it had few entries on the back of the calendar scheduling page. "Odd, there are usually multiple rules on a single sheet." The paper rustled in the barest breeze swirling around. The inside of the hangar was cool by human standards while the roof panels were open. Wheeljack stood farthest from the communications platform. Eight soaks in the wash racks failed to remove all the sulfur smell still clinging to his frame. The Transformers reset their detectors to ignore it, having been exposed to worse atmospheres on other planets. Only Ratchet was truly bothered and his concern was more for the combustible danger of the substance than its odor. The charred remains of a storage box and missing wall of the research lab bore evidence to that.

_"I smell Nobel!" _Darkwing Duck cartoon clip played from Bumblebee's speakers as he walked by the inventor, waving another calendar page.

"More of the addicted to Transformers list?" Prowl asked, reaching for it. His white armored fingers closed around it without crumpling the paper as his optics scanned it for evidence of its author.

::No, a list for us:: Bumblebee corrected. The small yellow bot danced back to where he had been standing. Jazz wiggled in the same dance moves while Sideswipe and Sunstreaker ignored them, concentrating on standing in the sunlight filtering through the open roof panels.

Prowl began reading aloud, "_You know you're addicted to humans when_:

_1. Your spare leg carry panel contains bottled water, three types of snack bars, a bag of chips, and two of Annabelle's toys. Unless you are Ironhide and it's all toys on the right side, healthy food and water on the left."_

"I do not," the black armored mech protested with a grunt.

"So you don't have all toys in your right panel?" Sunstreaker teased.

"Not all," Ironhide said even as his optics focused downward and to the side.

"Meaning?" Sunstreaker verbally prodded.

"Meaning he has them in the right and some in the left panel," Sideswipe guessed, crowing when the old mech vented hard.

"None of your business punk what I carry where," he growled.

"Be thankful they are toys," Jazz quipped.

"Why?"

"He could be carrying energon shrapnel clusters, armor eating nannites, and gooze goo bombs, all things that 'fix' twin trouble, if you catch my meaning," the visor wearing mech reminded. The twins quieted, processing what else the weapons specialist might be carrying. Prowl continued reading the list.

_2. You worry about Sarah Lennox finding out about the driving lesson, high speed ride or race with Annabelle. _*Mechs and femmes not named here to ensure their continued existence.

_3. You have ever looked the other way with what they eat and not said a word_. *Hound, Arcee, Chromia, and never let Ratchet catch you giving them that food.

4. _Medically scan a human every time they cough or sneeze to make sure they are not getting sick. _

5. _Medically scan them even when they don't sneeze or cough_. *Bumblebee and Ratchet.

_6. Lived on earth eight years and have more memory core space devoted to those experiences that two vorns on Cybertron. _

_7. Your earth music collection is larger than your message cipher database encryptions. _

_8. You automatically say good morning, good night, sweet dreams and ask 'how are you doing?" audios tuned to the answer. _

_9. Set your internal chronometer to remind for breakfast, break, lunch, dinner and bedtime for Sam, Mikeala and Annabelle or any other human you are around. _

_10. You use every excuse to drive your human around, even short distances or while on base._

_11. You have specially altered your interior to fit human riders. *_Bumblebee and Ironhide.

_12. The feel of human feet on your floorboards races your engine. _*Medical addendum – See Ratchet immediately for coding repair. Autobots do not have fetishes, feet included.

_13. You map a travel route paying more attention to rest stops, coffee shops and hotels than possible ambush points, ground cover and places to make an armed stand against superior forces. _

_14. You are recording a copy of this list as it is being read._

_15. You already processed at least two additions to this list._

The assembled bots laughed or chuckled at the last line, calling out suggestions. Prowl vented lightly, hitching his door wings higher in exasperation. "Do I have to create a rule about no more addicted to lists? Or rules regarding where and when said lists can be displayed? Then again, how many could there be?"

_218. Do not assume command protocols fix everything. Some glitches exist and must be tolerated. Other humans call them idiots. _

"Absolutely not!" Major Will Lennox shouted. He slammed his hand open palm on the counter. Computer techs ignored him, concentrating on their consoles. Acute alien hearing focused on his every word as Hound, Cliffjumper and Ratchet stood near the communications platform

::Remind you of any bot?:: Hound quipped as the Major yelled and gestured.

::Ironhide is a bad influence on that family:: Ratchet

:: I'd say you Ratchet. Even uses your phrases:: Cliffjumper added then hid behind Hound after ducking the first wrench.

"No live fire, pretend fire or even a match near the next 'drill!'" Will continued shouting.

"We need to test safety responses. And fire, even a little adds realism," the drill coordinator countered.

"Realism? Realize what happened with your cold weather ice drill. Our assets were damaged, Prowl and Red Alert specifically, and several of my men. You couldn't tape off an area and call it icy no, you!" he pointed with a fierce look, "use advanced technology borrowed from storage here on base, crank it up with no idea of what it can do and ice sheet half the base!"

"It was not half the base and technology is only good when it is used," he quoted.

"Then it is _not good_ now. Those units were moved for independent review and are unavailable," Will smugly informed him.

"What? Why?" he huffed.

"Safety issues," Master Sergeant Epps broke in smoothly, giving Will a moment to catch his breath and calm his temper. "Those machines help secure NBE_1 aka Megatron and a variation on Bumblebee but were unstable." Epps failed to mention that Wheeljack had discovered their higher settings were capable of temporarily stunning a Transformer for capture. That was why Diego Garcia had them. As a protection should any 'asset' go rogue. Will ordered Ironhide to destroy them and then listed them as 'lost, assumed misplaced and may turn up later' on the storage manifests. 'Turn up in pieces,' Epps cheerfully thought.

Hound whistled, getting their attention. "What about holograms? I can simulate any shape or size you need without danger."

"There! Easy solution," Will agreed.

The other man nodded, face intent as he ran possible scenarios. "Sounds okay. What could go wrong?"

"Not much but let me clear it with our command," Hound stalled, his processor providing multiple disaster scenarios with humans and their drills.

::Human wants to use fire holograms instead of real fire. Any problems?:: Hound

::One. That human. Unfortunately he is assigned and we must work with him. Let me confirm it with Prime:: Prowl sent, working through a stack of video feeds in his office.

::Sir, the 'safety' human is requesting assistance via Hound's holograms instead of real fire:: Prowl

::Permission granted and can you oversee the plans? I am busy with incomplete reports, minor regulation offenses and a lack of protective protocols, specifically firewalls and virus upgrades. Ratchet's threatening full physicals for every bot again:: Optimus

::Thanks for the warning. Let me know if you need assistance, I can rearrange my work schedule:: Prowl sent eagerly, as eagerly as his tone ever varied.

::No Prowl. It is my duty as Prime to handle the dispensing of orders or fair and equitable penalties. My troops can deal with me. Besides, you do not need to bend over backwards to always help:: Optimus tone carried a hint of mirth.

::If you are referring to the ice incident, I bent to protect the humans and not over backwards:: Prowl

::My mistake. Keep me informed:: Optimus closed the signal line. In his office, he chuckled richly, pulling up the photo of the mechs entangled on his datapad.

"Glad to see my Prime is earning his pay credits," Elita teased from the doorway, energon containers in her hands. The rose colored femme ignored the photo, having better ones stored in her personal memory core.

"I don't need credits when I have what I want most," he stated, tensing his cables and calculating her distance. The office door slid shut and he remote keyed the lock. She sat the containers on the desk and turned as normal, her rose colored chassis his entire focus.

"And that would be?" she quirked an optic ridge higher.

"You," he growled, springing out of his chair, grabbing her and pinning her between the wall and him.

"Good thing we are spark mates," she murmured, her optics intense.

"Why?" he leaned in close then felt a tap on his midriff. Her rifle was subspace across her arm, the tip aligned with his main power processor. "My armor is thinner there but able to take a blast," he teased, not releasing her.

"True. And your antenna on the right spun backwards while the left spun forwards; you twitched your left leg before lunging as the cables tightened. You need to control those. Too much time with the humans has you displaying visual cues," she stated, hiding the weapon back in subspace.

He released her stepping back, nodding as he realized the truth of the statement. "Tell me when you notice those giveaways please."

"I just did and a not so sbutle reminder, I can take care of myself," Elita smirked, reaching up and grabbing the front of his simulated glass chest panels and tugging on them. "I can even take care of..."

::Are you busy? I need Elita for her upgrade in med bay:: Ratchet sent to them both.

::Congratulations. I just nominated you for the bad timing awards. On my way:: Elita

_**Story Arc – A Reason to fight for the future (pt 3)**_

_209. Do not keep secrets from your family unless it absolutely necessary for their own protection then remember, even a Prime makes mistakes and will the truth hurt worse than a lie from a human because we have not told them and trusted their spark?_

Optimus was beyond frustrated. In a matter of hours, Ironhide's sparkling would be in its first frame and he still had not had a moment alone with Elita. She had left for her upgrade in medbay as he dealt with a never ending pile of managerial tasks. An emergency conference call later, a supply double check and dealing with another request to share their weapons technology had him tracking her unique energy signature without being able to get close enough to see her let alone personal time.

"I clear half a joor from my schedule and it isn't enough time to handle incoming problems. Enough is enough. I'm Prime and that means I can command what I want." He consulted his trackers, identifying the gathering of Autobots in the recreation room with their human friends. He strode directly there, pausing outside the door, confirming no living being was by it. A single shove of his hand had it slamming open.

"ELITA! PROWL! IRONHIDE! MY OFFICE NOW!" he barked, watching with hidden amusement as every bot jumped. Startled humans picked up the papers or cups they had dropped at his entrance. The sudden nervous chirping and clicking of Cybertronian in the room had him chuckling internally. Snapping around, he marched back towards his office, his weighted tread pounding the pavement without breaking it.

'Not often I surprise them. Probably wondering who is next on my slag list,' he processed, noting the quiet way the two mechs and single femme followed him across base.

He stopped in the hallway outside his office. "You two mechs," he pointed at them, "are to go in my office and keep the door sealed for secrecy until I comm you otherwise. No bot in or out and work on plans."

"What plans? Did we miss a file or deadline?" Prowl asked, totally baffled when Ironhide suddenly snickered and vented.

"I get it. Go on younglings. Have fun," he waved both hands at Prime and Elita. He grabbed Prowl's arm plates, pulling him towards the office door. "We're to stay busy here while they get busy elsewhere."

Elita giggled at the sudden dawning comprehension on Prowl's face. She silenced her voice capacitor to spare his dignity when he really understood. He twitched but remained upright, cooling fans whirring in his frame. Hers engaged higher as she laughed silently. Optimus rolled his optics upward.

The walk to their personal quarters was uninterrupted. Elitra barely got in the door when Optimus picked her up, heading for the next room and their recharge berth.

"We really should find a femme for Prowl," he commented thoughtfully then yelped as her smaller fingers found a gap in his armor and pressed on sensitive cables.

"Femmes are not commodities to be found and given Orion. And he was arranged to be bonded once, before the war. He chose to walk away and enlist. We too considered that option once," she touched the side of his jaw gently. His arms shifted to her back and waist plates, pulling her tight against him before laying her on the berth.

"The choice was taken from us. And I never knew he did that. We all have secrets."

"A secret sparkling still tops the energon," she reminded. He chuckled, his mirth vibrating his frame and feeling pleasant against hers. Then he changed. Nothing moved physically, he said not a word but she felt the change. Not their spark bond or even in the intensity of the blue optics staring down at her but she knew.

He revved his engine, holding his face a cable's width from hers. "How about a known sparkling?" He murmured.

In Optimus office, Prowl glanced over the top of his datapad in irritation at Ironhide's braod backside standing in front of a secure silver grey wall unit. "Cabinets are locked to prevent access, especially a Prime's. And you are not a Prime."

"Locked against the twins or humans you mean," the black warrior keyed another sequence on the digital lock pick. "If I know him, he has high grade stashed here to keep the lower ranks from it. Probably energon goodies and a recharge booster. Primus knows that bot never gets rest or repair as he should."

"Ratchet forbids the use of recharge boosters and digital lock picks are illegal," Prowl reminded, making notes for more rules.

"That why you carry two? One behind your chevron left side and another in your right arm plate slot by the elbow joint?"

"How the slag?" Prowl sputtered, blue optics wide.

"Weapons specialist means knowing what everybody else has. Not much good locking you in for interrogating if you escape out is there? Or free yourself from restraints and blast my backside?"

"Blasting your backside is Chromia's job, not mine," the black and white security officer said, rapidly updating personnel files regarding Ironhide's intelligence, capability and sneakiness.

A soft click signalled the cabinet unlocking as both doors swung open. "Ha! Told you so, three recharge boosters, energon goodies and a datapad. No high grade, slag it." He opened the datapad, activating it automatically.

_"Do you wish to continue with secure file 11011938?"_ the message displayed_. _

Curious, Ironhide tapped the "A" for affirmative as Prowl approached, leaning in over his arm to read it.

"What is NOA HSB OATT WO ?" Ironhide read aloud. He keyed the display button and the file began scrolling past, images popping up on the left.

They read it then vented, optics snapping to each other in pure shock.

_To be continued…_

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Author's Notes: Just for fun

_You know you are addicted to this fic when:_

_a. The e-mail alert pops in and you squeal with joy_

_b. You have reread chapters to enjoy them again_

_c. You have reviewed every chapter for fun, pointing out what you like and didn't_

_d. Whenever a bot is captured, missing or hurt it bothers you until the next chapter has them okay_

_e. _


	71. Chapter 71 Ironhide's sparkling

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. The addicted lists have proven popular and will remain intermixed among the rules. Maybe even a bit about who is making them.

BLEVE is a real term and a very dangerous situation. You have seen it on the news without knowing the technical behind it. My volunteer firefighter background. This chapter had two other sections but it was too long so they got bumped onto the waiting list. When they fit, they will be used. If not, then held until they do. And yes, Sideswipe will be fine. More explained later as well as what was on Prime's super secret laptop. Onward to holding your dreams in your arms.

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_207. Do not let human emotions interfere with the ability to find an agreement rather than conflict. They are a young race but capable of self control. If they can, what excuse does that leave us?_

"Ironhide, this is a non-discretionary order," Optimus stated. His red and blue chassis remained still in his office chair, the desk between him and one of his oldest friends and officers.

"No," the weapons specialist repeated for the tenth time. Standing, his arms remained crossed and resolute as his denial. "I am not attending any slagging anger management class for humans. It's insulting Prime," he growled, optics narrowing in, their blazing blue vivid against his all black face plates and armor.

"Do you know why I chose you?"

"My temper?" he grumbled, lightly rolling his cannons.

"No. Humans are placed into the course under full protection of anonymity. Their records are medically protected even from Ratchet. I need you there to identify the troublemakers. Your…. personal skills are the perfect cover for your attendance," Optimus lip plate twitched.

"Humph. Spying?"

"More gathering of information," he stated.

Later that day, Ironhide sat against the wall in the maintenance hangar, his head plate barely clearing the ceiling. Scans locked in every human present, several a surprise to his processors. The instructor introduced himself and reminded them they were all under orders to attend but an open mind could free them the rest of their lives. Then they each had to tell the reason why they were there. He mentioned a prank by the twins, resulting in crumpling both their bumpers and using the scrap to make Annabelle a seesaw on the base playground.

The first hour's lecture covered the basics of anger, including both mental and physical responses. Ironhide listened, half a processor recording it while scanning the internet and updating virus protections from the Autobot mainframe. The next hour had him captivated with anger displays and their unintentional consequences. Then they moved into healthy ways to express anger.

"Slag; never thought they would allow it let alone tell how to do it 'properly,' he processed in surprise. The instructor displayed a list on the wall screen, moving down the points.

"Be direct. Make your behavior visible and conspicuous. Use the way you stand and move to indicate your feelings, including anger at the person in front of you. Most people get angry when they feel they're ignored, not understood or not helped."

Ironhide smirked. 'Oh yah, they know I mean business when looking up the barrels of my cannons and I can help them. Express trip to the pit,' he patted one of his arm cannons.

"Anger can be expressed as courage as in charging ahead, not being fearful and using self protective skills," the human continued.

'Sounds good to me. Roll right over their worthless chassis while firing, my idea of self protection. This class is pretty good,' the ancient warrior mech noted.

"Or passionate as in acting with energy and being fiercely protective. Passing that enthusiasm onto others instead of yelling or attacking them. Bring them along instead of forcing them," the instructor touched the last point.

'Hmm, no more throwing the mini bots then or kicking Bluestreak in the aft to get moving. Can carry them, bring them along that way. But it ties up an arm. Have to think about that one.'

"Now close your eyes and envision you and a person you feel great anger towards. Role play out the entire situation from beginning to end. See how you do," he intoned, his voice getting soft as he continued.

Ironhide closed his optics, safeties engaged over his weapons and chassis least an accidental touch trigger his battle systems. 'Starscream, perfect.' His internal image showed the seeker, one wing charred and smoking from his cannons, grounding the flier. 'Look them in the optics know what you can do and think positive.' The seeker snarled his defiance, waiting for the kill shot that never came.

'Not today Screamer. Here is what I can do for you. Leave the planet and remain online or stay and your wings are mine. There will be no second chances. Only second and third and fourth blasts.'

:: Surviving old friend?:: Optimus sent, interrupting his mental images.

::Barely. Uploading images and data files on the humans attending now. Only two of them are dangerous, one a definite threat based on bio reactions to me. He was previously unknown and has access to our tech base:: Ironhide

::Then we are forewarned and can take protective measures:: Optimus

::Need a reason to leave early?:: Ratchet

::And blow my cover? No, I'll endure. Complete a full report later for you med bot:: Ironhide sent, closing the line. 'Why leave now? Beats chasing the twins and I can upload this later to Chromia. Bet my femme would love the image of having a wounded 'Con at her feet.'

_217. Do not plan so extensively that reality surprises you. As the humans say, if you are going to beat the odds, ensure you can survive the odds beating you. _

Hound readied his image chargers, rerouting all non-essential power to them. Walls of flame exploded out of the concrete into the sky, burning in the brilliance of red, orange to yellow to pure white at the tips. They danced, swaying as they consumed the air and reacted to their nature to destroy. The assembled troops clapped their hands together, seeing the flaming walls without feeling the searing heat. A nod from Master Sergeant Epps and the flame walls swirled away into wisps, the pavement unmarked and the air full of tropical scents and the salt sting of the Indian Ocean.

Hound bowed from his waist cogs, accepting their applause. "I'm ready," he announced to the safety officer. The man clicked a field on his laptop before striding towards the tanker truck. The green armored scout added relaxation protocols to his energon fuel pumps. ::Every bot ready?::

::Aerialbots overhead:: Air Raid

::Ground crews standing by, or rather sitting in their quarters, pretending to have a normal afternoon before 'disaster' strikes:: Arcee

::Disaster is that human:: Red Alert

::Aren't they all?:: Cliffjumper

::Not Sam or Mikeala:: Hound protested

::Lennox family or you got a problem punk?:: Ironhide sent, his growl clear through the words.

::Epps and his sister. They are pretty nice and never have said anything bad about any of us and Epps thought this drill was a bad idea with the human's track record. Why humans have to create or hold pretend disasters when their world has more than enough real disasters and threats to their continued existence is odd processing. With their weather and man made disasters they have real action and why not pretend another Decepticon attack is beyond me:: Bluestreak

::Copy that. Alarm is sounding:: Prowl sent as the distinctive sound echoed from all available speakers. Fire crews and emergency trained personnel converged on the far tarmac, as the fuel tanker began "burning" with one of Hound's holograms. The first unit sprayed water, spreading the fuel source and pushing the fire onto the nearby building. The safety officer typed notes rapidly, his face alight as they made their first mistake.

::Fire 1, crews 0:: Arcee sent, rolling around capturing it all on her systems for replay later. Optimus was off base at another summit meeting with Sam but wanted to see what happened.

::Fun is beginning. Tanker is getting ready to blow as Team Two takes time to straighten out their hoses:: Ironhide gestured toward the hose truck and the men struggling.

::Fire 2, crews 0, Transformers: Priceless when they rescue your aft:: Arcee giggled, hopping a filling hose before stopping by the nearby fire engine. ::On your marks::

The fire decreased around the tanker itself as the metal frame charred. The pressure vent on top began whistling, signaling valve failure. The safety officer sat his laptop down to begin pulling on thick rubber boots over his leather shoes.

"What was that term again?" Cliffjumper asked, looking up at Red Alert. They stood by the 'burning' building to tag humans 'out of commission' should the holographic fire flare back on them.

"BLEVE. Boiling Liquid Expanding Vapor Explosion. Rupture of a vessel containing a liquid. Contents heat above that liquid's atmospheric boiling point. It vents then the sudden drop in pressure causes violent boiling. The expanding vapor has lots of pressure, creating the explosion. Destroy the tanker or storage unit and throws fragments over the surrounding area. Humans are offlined literally with their organs flattened inside their bodies if too close. We tag the closest humans with black and the next row out with red tags. They'll pretend to be offlined and hopefully learn from this."

"Uhm," the mini bot's silver face plates formed a worried look. "Isn't our energon and other liquids pressurized?"

"The impact would have to be significant to rupture our armor, boil the liquids and Ratchet is very good at parts retrieval," Red Alert comforted the smaller mech.

The whistling sound of the tanker's pressure valve reached supersonic frequencies as the flame vanished. Experienced crew members dove for the ground, covering their ears and relaxing their jaws as they breathed out. The tanker exploded outward, fiery fragments covering the grid as the rolling black smoke rose skyward. The speakers rattled with the 'explosion' sound as the visible shockwave rolled outward.

Transformers flinched or stepped back even as sensors reported and confirmed it was only an illusion. Too many battle scenes flashed across their processors. The rolling smoke expanded outward as humans were marked with color tags.

"Call for an air drop," Major Lennox ordered, following the safety inspector's plans. He flipped through the thick plan, "Are we on page fourteen or eighteen? I'm lost." Their radios buzzed with the Aerialbots pulse signal.

"I'm flying blind here. No real flames to trigger my lock and the holograms are scrambling the rest," Slingshot complained, soaring overhead.

::Aim for the fire already wings! Use your optics!:: Ironhide

"How hard is it to lay one hologram over another?" Epps commented to Lennox then both gasped, eyes going wide as they spun towards the smiling safety inspector, who was holding a very large umbrella and wearing black goulashes.

"No, he wouldn't? Would he?" Lennox muttered, flipping through his drill guide.

"Epps to Slingshot, confirm cargo. Repeat confirm pay load," the black sergeant radioed frantically.

"I'm bringing the rain," the Aerialbot quipped back. The harrier jet dove down, releasing the latches to his cargo hold. The water began falling in sheets as the ground crews screamed, trying to run even as the tagged ones curled into fetal balls, praying.

KAWHOOSH ! SPLAT !

The seawater slammed down with gravity's pull, knocking men and bots down, washing them to the edges. The drill instructor started a high pitch scream as his umbrella collapse down around him. His body thumped onto the wet cement, as water raced past, pulling the oversize goulashes off and away. Seaweed, fish, and flotsam sunk into soggy piles as the water flowed away to the lowest areas.

Then a massive pile of seaweed in the center heaved, as though alive. A purple tentacle pushed through, waving in the sunlight. Then another and another broke free, the suckers latching onto the wet concrete, pulling the massive bright purple body up out of the seaweed and into the air. Bright blue round eyes blinked as it clacked massive jaws. Screaming wet soldiers became sliding fleeing soldiers as the Transformers pulled weapons of all types as they tried to regain their balance in the wet.

"Hold your fire!" Ironhide roared.

"Humans are too intermixed!" Red Alert added as the octopus reached, tentacles skimming over the head of the fleeing soldiers.

The seaweed pile heaved again, a giant sand crab scuttling out of it. Its white translucent shell contrasted with its bright blue eyes; clacking its main front claws, it tip toed forward. The octopus turned, slapping at it. Quick as the wind, it ducked and scuttled sideways before raising a claw and grabbing the tentacle. Two more tentacles attacked only to be pinned down by the walking legs as the crab balanced, pulling the octopus backwards with its front pinchers. The giant ocean creatures fought back and forth, legs pinning the remaining tentacles.

"Yield now," the crab commanded.

The octopus hissed, clicking its hard beak before fading into a thousand shimmering lights as the hologram dissolved down into Sunstreaker. The crab shimmered in the same pattern to reveal Prowl tapping one foot as his wing doors shook with tension.

"Not one word. Tend to the wounded and began clean up."

"Aye aye Ahab," Sunstreaker saluted.

"Ahab pursued a white whale. Captain Nemo defeated the Octopus," Prowl corrected. "And you," he focused on the safety inspector who was still flipping around like a fish. "Accompany me to my office as we have much to discuss."

The human began sputtering, pulling at his soggy clothing then squealed when Prowl picked him up between two metal fingers, lifting him into the air in front of his optics. "That was not a request." No bot or human moved to interfere as he carried the man towards the Autobot offices.

"Wicked. Wouldn't want to be him," Lennox grinned, pulling a piece of seaweed off his arm. "Calamari for dinner anyone?"

Sunstreaker vented suddenly, wobbling on his multi pad feet as he clutched at his yellow chest plates. Stumbling he went to one knee, swaying as his head turned to the south.

::RATCHET! EMERGENCY WITH SIDESWIPE! South tarmac, hurry:: Sunstreaker sent on the all call bandwidth. Far more rapidly than he should have, the golden twin forced his transform, racing with only a little weaving to his route, others following.

_**Story Arc – A Reason to fight for the future (pt 4)**_

In the Autobot med bay, the sound of rapid and deep venting came from the main recharge berth. Ironhide held Chromia's armored hand tightly as Ratchet moved toward her open chest panels. The sparkless shell lay nearby, the basic black of a protoform even as its square head and streamline body subtly designated it as mech and not femme.

"Calm down, this is a perfectly normal procedure," Ratchet soothed, readying his internal power systems to save the spark should any surges or flare outs happen. The small almost purple spark spun in its protective area below her brilliantly white spark. Its strength reassured the medic even as his hands moved forward with the transfer tongs. He paused as his arm plate felt the air moving across.

"Vent any deeper Ironhide and you'll overload your cooling system," Ratchet snarled, leaning over Chromia to match his wildly spinning optics. She snickered, careful to not move her open chest. Her venting was normal and relaxed with the medical files Ratchet had uploaded to reassure her.

::That could be us soon:: Elita sent, looking up at her sparkmate

::I won't be that nervous:: Optimus corrected, winking an optic.

::No, you'll be worse:: Elita

::You win. I really thought he would be steady and calm for this:: Chromia sent, turning her head their direction.

::He's a mech. We do the work and they worry:: Elita teased her friend, unable to shrug as Optimus held her tightly, sending waves of love over their spark bond.

"Awww, what a cute picture," Sunstreaker teased, standing alongside his twin's berth. His red chassis was laid out, cables and tubing in and out of his chest and neck plates.

::Only until they give junior a weapon. Two guesses who his favorite targets will be:: Sideswipe sent weakly.

"Skids and Mudflap!" Sunstreaker snapped his fingers human style as if the answer was obvious. Then he laid an armored hand on his brother's helm. "Rest 'bro. Thought of the ultimate prank while you were flat on your faceplates. We need a few items…" he trailed off as the sound of rolling cannons interrupted. "Tell you later."

Chromia reached up her hand and tapped Ratchet's arm, her dark blue armor vivid against his yellow green coloring. "Can we please get on with it? I'm a little exposed here."

"Never tire of this view, usually too busy to appreciate it," Ironhide murmured, then switched his optics to her face. She growled, sending a private message over their personal comm.

"Promise? I'll find a spark sitter!" He smirked, his venting finally settling to a more normal pace. He stilled as Ratchet pulled the small spark, a sizzle snap sound as it freed from her casing. Pulsing, it buzzed as it moved through the air and down into the center chamber of the sparkling shell. It hovered, brightening as the tongs withdrew. Chromia's chest plates closed as they watched their spark, silently urging it on.

"Come on little one, you're almost home," Ratchet whispered towards it. It lengthened, fitting into the shape as the top plates folded down, clicking with the transforming sound. The tiny black form onlined, limb extensions wiggling before blue optics unshuttered, the centers focusing in and out. Ratchet scooped it up tenderly, transferring it to Chromia.

"Now you are home," he caressed it before stepping back. He clicked, leaning against her chest plate as Ironhide bent down.

"May you never know war or suffer loss. When you do, we will be there, I swear on my spark," the black mech promised.

"What are you going to name him?" Optimus rumbled.

"Ram-i-el Starchaser. Ram for short," Ironhide said as his optics never left their mech.

"Means many things but primarily "hope" and "a guide," Chromia explained, holding the snuggling sparkling close. He clicked softly at her, tiny optics shuttering as he slipped into his first recharge, content and safe.

The twins watched, absorbing what they had seen. "Not a weapon based name? Lost credits on that one," Sunstreaker commented.

::Not all is war and fighting:: Sideswipe

"You are worse than I thought."

::Keep it up and I'll blast your crest plate black to rearrange your paint job into a sunflower :: Sideswipe

"That's more like it!" Sunstreaker cheered, finally reassured his twin was on the mend.

"Elita, please have a seat. I need to scan you," Ratchet gestured towards the far recharge berth. "Sparkling shells take time."

"Now?" she vented, leaning into the strong arms wrapped around her. The emotions of what she had seen and felt still reverberated through her processors and spark. "Eeep!" She squeaked as Optimus lifted her by her hip plates up onto the closer medical berth.

"Now femme," he rumbled, ignoring her warning snarl. Ratchet moved in, running a yellow light scan across her chest while pulling wrist connection data.

"Congratulations, you have a forming spark," the CMO announced.

"Mech or femme?" Optimus asked, leaning in to see.

_To be continued…._


	72. Chapter 72 A reason to fight pt 5

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Hopefully everyone and everybot had a good Christmas and New Year's Day 2009. The secret project is revealed and the answer was there in the letters but not the spacing. Ironhide read it Cybertron style while Prime had it earth style. The movie verse had the bots landing in comet crashes not a ship but I'm an old G1 canon softie.

In TF canon, Sparks are the life force or soul of a Transformer. It is a physical entity protected inside a mechanical shell that makes up the bots protoform or shell or chassis. As long as the spark is intact, the body can be rebuilt or transfer a spark to a new shell. When the spark is gone, the Transformer is gone. Breeding is an intact spark that can be transferred into a new protofrom and that being have a personality, and can experience life through external sensors. I researched this on tf wiki under terms "spark" and "personality component."

Thanks to ladyofdarkstar for beta of a very rough version of this. And thanks to botosphere for picking up on earth having a kind of Cybertronian presence. I work hard to put little things like that in my fics. And thanks to all my friends made here and you loyal readers. Another chapter to enjoy and more on the way. Onward to unexpected results and needing to rely on others to recover.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

_214. Do not forget our origins however long we are off planet while adapting to new worlds and cultures. Your spark can transfer from shell to shell, your alt mode change and even be reformatted without losing the essence of the Cybertron being you were created._

Sam approached the three Transformers, more comfortable with them than the rest of the Diego Garcia base. Mikeala was busy with Ratchet in Wheeljack's lab on a late night project and he had wandered around, looking for his guardian and best friend. Soldiers greeted him, pointing him towards the lagoon and sand spit. As the sun was setting, he found Bumblebee, Optimus and Ironhide sitting on the edge at the base of Annabelle's giant sand castle. They neither spoke nor moved and somehow he knew they were not communicating on internal comm either. Their optics were half shuttered and remained still. Only Bumblebee moved to acknowledge him, reaching out an armored hand to pat the sand next to him.

"Hey guys. Are you listening to radio and TV transmissions?" he asked, removing items from his jean pockets before he sat down by the yellow mech.

::Earth's sounds:: Bumblebee texted onto his cell phone.

"Like the planet shifting, volcanoes and earthquakes type noises?"

::No, the echoes of the technology your race stole, reverse engineering from Megatron. Cybertron was alive before the war. You could feel its very existence. I never knew it that way but Optimus and Ironhide shared their memories:: Bumblebee rotated his blue optics up at the older mechs.

"It is like hearing your favorite song," Optimus began. "The transmission is corrupted, barely detectable and missing in places."

"But it's your favorite song right? You'd know it anywhere. Reminds you of home?" Sam guessed.

"Yes Sam, a recognizable presence," Optimus answered, his lip plates forming a smile. All three Transformers watched the ocean, listening. The human closed his eyes, listening with his ears and heard only the slapping of the ocean waves on the beach.

'Wait, the Matrix buzzed and the Allspark hummed when I carried them,' he remembered. 'I felt it more than heard it.' Eyes closed, he relaxed and replayed his memories of the way they felt and sounded when he held them. And ever so faintly, Sam began to hear earth's song.

_234. Do not adjust human computers, however simple their technology is to corrupt. Humans rely on them and need them, however jealous we are of the affection they spend on such non sentient devices while mistrusting us. _

Major Will Lennox climbed the metal stairs, keeping one hand firmly on the railing when he saw Ironhide was one of the Transformers in the hangar. 'Knew I should never made that safety promise to Sarah. Set an example for our daughter she says. No problem I answer not realizing a big black nightmare would enforce it. Least I thought ahead enough to add the combat clause though being on base should count as combat but it does not, ' he sighed. He sat down at the first empty console, dumping the paper file next to the computer terminal with a thump as Ironhide focused back on Sideswipe and Sunstreaker and the others. He watched them practicing partial transforms, pulling and using weapons before fully shifted.

"Need any help Major?" The lead communications technician asked, leaning out and around the tech between them.

"No Lieutenant. Catching up on file notes. Got it handled," Will answered back, bringing up the mainframe link. He stopped, his face taking on a concentrated look. 'Now, what did I call that file? Hmm, maybe use the search?" The search window popped up and he looked over the choices, deciding on Documents: word processing, spreadsheet, etc.

"Let's see, search by any or all of the criteria below, last time it was modified? I don't remember, if I did I could go find it. Who invents these search applications? Programmer who never uses them." A grey command prompt window opened almost immediately.

_**50 bonus points for every minute it takes you to find it in less than ten minutes using that combo. Try a more detailed file name.**_

On screen, almost a hundred files appeared with the list continuing to grow. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the mech twins, both ignoring him and the other humans on the platform as they began arguing about an easier release on their energon swords.

"Let me try a file name detail then. I add the date on the end; it was in the summer so maybe May would be 05, June for 06, and July 07 for the months? August is when school starts and I think of that as fall. How many files could that bring up?" he mumbled, changing the search field. The grey command window prompt appeared.

_**50 more stress points assigned. Are you trying to make this hard on yourself dude? **_

He blinked as over four hundred files displayed in the list. "Oh, any file with 05 in the name appeared. Oops. Hmm, why can't they make these things easier to use. Smart search engine my aft." Typing, he switched the search to computers and people. "I emailed it to Epps. Try that." Hundreds of entries filled the screen until the 'maximum limit' error appeared.

_**One hundred stress points assigned. You copy everything to everyone whether they want it or not. I have enough of my own work to deal with. Need an online guide dog yet?**_

"How about I blast you into a million pieces?" Lennox growled, forgetting how sensitive alien hearing was. "I need one file not trouble." Blue optics focused on him as he ruffled his hands through his hair, glaring at the screen. "It had photos in it. Search by pictures and photos? Need name of photo. Does every slagging thing need a name? How about battle?"

The search began scrolling by through all the different drives and files, displaying hundreds of thumbnails of all types of photo files.

_**Twenty five stress points assigned. Least you have pretty pictures to look at. Unless photography is not your thing then enjoy the blurry skewed images to match your skewed memory.**_

Will sighed, reading the time in the corner and frowned, Sarah and Annabelle were arriving shortly and he still had the update his file notes before the meeting. A single grey box notification appeared.

"_**Continue Yes or No?"**_

He typed "Y" for yes then read the list displayed.

_**Your score is 348. Please read the chart below if your eyes and mind still function together.**_

_**00 - 50 Verify all your power connections are lit and in use.**_

_**51 - 100 Consider hiring a part time assistant or adding at least two processing cores and a memory pack**_

_**101 - 150 Definitely hire a part time assistant that is smarter than you**_

_**151 - 200 Beg any part time assistant to become full time and give them your work**_

_**201 - 300 Tell me you don't work with anything dangerous, explosive or spark threatening and why do they allow you computer access?**_

_**301 - 400 See Red Alert. You are a walking disaster waiting to happen near advanced technology.**_

_**401 - 500 See Ratchet. You have major glitches and need an internal rebuild before self destructing.**_

_**501 - 600 You are hopeless. See Ironhide for a new career or volunteer to be his target holder**_

_**601 - 750 Give it up. Go find a Decepticon. They will offline you quicker than the spark attack you are about to have.**_

_**751 - 1000 Call for a parts retriever. Bet you won't remain functional enough to finish this line. 'Clean up on the platform, clean up on the platform, squishy mess in main hangar."**_

Will moaned softly, resting his forehead on his folded arms. His nerves tingled as medical scans rippled over his skin and the sounds of mechs approaching with their heavy tread. "I'm fine," he muttered, not raising up. "Okay, not fine. Anyone remember last summer in Australia with the drones that looked like kangaroos? Kicked all the vehicle tires out? Anybot? Need the date."

_222. Do not forget we fight to save and protect life regardless of its size or strength. Humans brag about what they have destroyed or how many offlined. We exist long enough to see what has been prevented from harming future generations._

In the main staging hangar, Annabelle Lennox faced Skids and Mudflap with a certain amount of curiosity and wariness. They had never hurt her in a prank but knew what they were capable of and had pranked them with Ironhide's help.

"What is it?" she asked, walking around the square shape the green colored mech held on his hand.

"Dat be a pest catcher, for like spiders," Skids tapped it lightly with one metallic finger.

"Ewwww," she scrunched her face up and shivered. "I hate spiders."

"We know that," Mudflap said, grinning down at her. The orange mech pointed at the box his twin handed to her. "This catches them. See pests, sit the box on the floor, push the big button top and the energy field wraps out, grabs it and pulls it inside."

"Spider be gone," Skids finished, clapping his empty hands together.

"It doesn't hurt it does it? Mommy says living things have a right to survive too, even if they are mean and scary. Except Decepticons and then only if they refuse to surrender or shoot first or have hurt any of us," Annabelle stated, her blue eyes glancing over to the trash can.

"Push the other button, and the field throws the spider out," Skids explained then sent to his twin. ::I hate talking 'normal.' Would Sarah really make us into new kitchen appliances?:: Skids

::Yo, I ain't find' out. And it's only around Annabelle we's have to:: Mudflap

"Hmm, sounds okay. I still like it when Optimus stabs them with his big sword, makes a mess but they are really gone even when bad big metallic ones," she grinned, flipping her blond hair back with one hand.

::Big metallic?:: Skids

::Everything is big to her. One of Wheeljack's mini drones probably:: Mudflap sent then closed the comm line. He bent down towards the little girl with a grin curving his face plates. "Ready to test it?"

"No."

"What do you mean no?" Skids asked, optics spinning in tight.

"No as in Daddy had his soldiers remove spiders and bugs from inside the hangars and the military sprays the buildings and doors to keep them out. I'm not allowed on base when they do that. Ratchet told them it was bad stuff they spray and made them use plant based sprays but it makes me itch so I have to stay home when they do that. So no spiders to catch but thank you anyway. I have lessons to continue," she explained, leaving the box on the floor and getting her datapad out of her black backpack.

::Any earth spiders. Did you not mention Wheeljack's mini drones? They in storage:: Skids sent, a plan forming between them.

An hour later, Annabelle continued her spatial astronomy equations on her datapad when the twins rolled back in, transforming out of their alt modes. They strolled by her, whistling and keeping their hands tucked behind their back. The other bots watched, waiting for anything to happen then ignoring them when time passed and nothing exploded, changed color or flew out of subspace. Two armored personal carries rolled in, men climbing out and leaving them for the Transformers to practice around. Twenty minutes later, the mail delivery van rolled in, unloading two large wood crates as she finished her lessons.

"Annabelle? Want to help pull the packing out?" Master Sergeant Epps asked, knowing the fluffy white spun fiber was a fun and safe way to keep her occupied.

Annabelle hummed her favorite song, reaching in and helping pull the stuffing out. The twins stood nearby, waiting. She reached in, pulling up a piece when it went back down. Surprised, she tugged it up harder, figuring it was caught on the item. It tugged back down. Bracing with both feet she pulled the stuffing up, revealing a silver multi leg shape with its front legs wrapped through her packaging bundle.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

The spider looking drone sprung up, releasing the fiber and toppling her backwards. She saw only the big eyes and screamed again. Ironhide turned, systems onlining his cannons when the shape flew back, as though swatted by an invisible hand.

**KAWHAM! **The two military armored personal carrier tanks slammed into it, crushing it between their massive weights before the entire pile dropped to the ground. She jumped up, running for Ironhide.

"How?" Epps stuttered, gesturing towards the twisted metal, his gun not even half drawn from its holster.

"My bad, defensive strength a little high powered," Ironhide rumbled, sensors detecting her heart rate and respiration slowing as he held her against his chest plates. He knew she had used her Prime gift even as he accessed security systems, wiping out the camera recordings for that time. "You all right?"

She nodded, keeping a tight grip on his finger. "I don't like spiders."

Snickering by the twins gave him the confirmation he needed. "Annabelle, go with Epps and get ice cream from the recreation room. I will be right there. You did good, we will talk about this later youngling," he encouraged. The minute she cleared the door he turned, stomping toward the other bots.

"Pests!" He pointed then grabbed Skids and Mudflap by their back scruff bars, yanking them up before slamming them together and throwing them out the main hangar door.

_**Story Arc – A Reason to fight for the future (pt 5)**_

::Honest Ratchet, I thought it was a minor code virus. Had them before:: Sideswipe sent, his mental tone sincere as he lay on the medical berth.

"It may have started that way. When it lasted longer than a breem you should have called me," he stated, disconnecting the main spark lines first, fingers transformed into tools.

::I thought my self-repair would remove it. All major symptoms vanished with the first correction:: Sideswipe

"Not vanished, eased off, and allowing the virus to multiple in your systems. Humans make the same mistake, with fatal results," he tapped the center of Sideswipe's red helm with his knuckles before working on the neck lines.

::Really?:: Sideswipe sent, his blue optics sliding as far to the side to keep him in visual range.

"The show you watch with Annabelle, the one with the puppets? The creator of that show, Jim Henson got a cold that kept getting worse. He waited for it to get better, trusting his body to fight it off and offlined because of it. Our design is more advanced. Your spark protocols engaged defensive measures when the virus hit your upper relays," Ratchet lectured while he undid the delicate lines.

::The pain coding was severe:: Sideswipe admitted.

"Designed to get your attention or in your case, your twins," he said, adjusting the last connection and closing his armor plating.

"Hope that slagging Con is as sick," Sideswipe switched to speaking with his vocalizer.

"Not a chance in pit," Ratchet growled. "He had it first so he is offlined by it or they offlined him. Passed it to you while fighting without direct intrusion implies he didn't know he had it. And Decepticons don't have a med bay remember?"

"Doesn't break my spark. Where is everybot?" the red twin asked.

"Ironhide is guarding Chromia and Ram in their quarters. Suppose to be resting but not that lug head. He's so energized be half an orn before he relaxes enough to recharge. I need to double check Ram after his first energon bottle. Bumblebee is with Sam but his vocalizer is out again and scheduled for a checkup later. Hound is back from a scout mission on the mainland and recharging in his quarters following replacing a power unit on his leg strut. The rest are in meetings with Prime, senior officers first then the main teams later. And no, I don't know why or about what other than it involves our future. Prowl will tell us once he knows."

"Oh, uhm, have you been hanging around Bluestreak again?" the twin teased, smirking. "A simple answer of in meetings or their quarters would have done."

"Then it will suffice to say we got a off world signal this morning human time," the medic stated, his optics lightly spinning as he folded his hands behind his back.

"Signal as in more Autobots?"

"Far be it from me to bore you. I can always have Bluestreak or Prowl explain it all later. I have duties to attend to," the medic half bowed in the old ways of their kind before starting across the room, grumbling.

"I'm sorry."

The short phrase brought him to an abrupt stop, one so fast even his advanced compensators had him wobbling mid step. He spun around, hustling back towards the berth, pulling out advanced processing scanners from his hip storage. "Any warning reports, any other fluctuations in your processors?"

Sideswipe pushed against his arm, irritated. "Not funny Ratchet. You don't have to tell me. But don't be insulting by pretending anything is wrong with me."

"I'm not. In over twenty thousand years I have never heard you honestly apologize. Not even when you slagged Elita's favorite crystal recreate hologram," the medic countered.

"It recreated a bridge of Iacon, and I didn't mean to break it wrestling Sunstreaker. If it was that valuable she should have kept is safer," he grumped, sitting up.

"It was in a locked case with a force field on a wall well above the reach of any sparklings or younglings. Prime himself gave it to her and it had special meaning, one which you never did find out when you mimicked the words you were sorry but never meant them."

"Apologizing is normally a sign of weakness."

"And just now?" Ratchet asked, hiding the scanner back.

"I was being an aft," he admitted. "I hate med bay and for a pit twisted reason as a coding virus from a Decepticon that had me falling flat on my face in front of every bot?"

"Not every bot. Sunstreaker's panic call had every bot responding," he merrily corrected.

"Why was that holographic bridge important?" Sideswipe finally asked.

"Optimus built their names into it, the hologram could be turned upside down to see them. He gave it to her their fist vorn of bonding remembrance. It was after the battle of Dengier Four. He was badly hurt but kept his promise to her."

"To be there?"

"Yes. And she needed him. She had.." the medic trailed off, his optics closing before focusing on the wall. "Your readings are fine," he gruffed. "You are free to go." He turned his back, replacing the cables and wiring into their holders in the lower drawer.

"Ratchet, what happened to Elita that she needed him? We were added to Prowl's team later. I never heard there were any problems."

"That is between her and Optimus. I… can't say. I was her attending medic as were several others," Ratchet admitted. "The spark she carries now is fully functional. I installed a micro receiver in her chest plates for continual monitoring. And she will not be allowed on the battlefield this time until after the sparkling essence is placed in the shell. You can go. I need to make my reports to Prime. You are not my only patient."

Sideswipe opened his lip plates to speak then stopped in pain, as his processors realized what the medic had told him indirectly. Bowing his head, he reached for his twin.

::I'm free from med bay. Our quarters clean for once? Need to recharge:: Sideswipe sent as he left med bay without a word.

::You sure? You don't sound too good:: Sunstreaker

::I'm fine. Need you and a distraction while the last of the anti virus program finishes. Ratchet okayed me to leave. Have any high grade handy?:: Sideswipe

::Ratchet did not okay that:: Sunstreaker

::I am too slagged to fight or drill, no pranks and I need to relax with my battle responses disabled. Know a better way?:: Sideswipe sent as he opened the outer door to their quarters.

::No, getting it now. Be there in a breem:: Sunstreaker answered, closing the link.

Sideswipe sat on his recharge berth, trying to imagine a femme waiting for him, holding their sparkling in her arms. "Primus, is fighting all I am destined for? I know you made us the best and I love it but, what am I to do in between? You brought my twin to me, dare I ask for more?" He stretched out on his bunk, the silence of an empty room surrounding.

In his private quarters, Optimus received Ratchets report. ::I understand. Keep me informed:: He closed the comm line, optics brightening. His arms remained wrapped around his sparkmate. Elita pressed against him, her spark reaching for his with pain and regret.

::You should have told me:: Optimus

::You were nearly offlined in a battle. You were recovering and you needed to focus on being the last Prime and gathering the Autobot forces under your command:: Elita answered, the barest unevenness in her words.

"Spark mates come first," he rumbled, switching to words. The emotions were too strong in their bonds. "And you were grieving. I thought you were worried about me, had minor damage repaired and kept busy organizing the femmes under your command. Not recovering from the loss of our first sparkling," Optimus sent love and his need for her as his arms tightened on her rose colored frame.

"The Decepticon sniper targeted my spark. He missed when I shifted," Elita stated quietly. "The shot went clean through my armor and out the back. My spark spires were part melted, the flux field shattered, dispelling the energy essence."

"Who was the sniper?" Prime growled, red seeping into his optics.

"Chromia offlined him tracing the shot back to its source. Grumbled about it for a joor once I woke in med bay. Wanted to stomp, tear and shred him before he offlined. She didn't miss," Elita said.

Neither moved, monitoring the readings of her implanted receiver. "Will you be ready when the transfer time arrives?" Elita asked, leaning back to look up at him.

"I'm ready now," he smiled at her, leaning down to brush his lip plates across hers. "And Elita, however many you want, I'll help."

"I'm sure," she teased. "It's after they are in the shell the work begins."

He refrained from answering her, remembering raising Bumblebee. Without actively processing, he moved his stance wider, shifting his feet plates away from hers. 'Sparkmate or not I need my feet intact.'

The wall intercom buzzed, Major Lennox's voice coming out of it.

"Optimus. Are you there? NASA confirms the signal as Autobots inbound but I can't read their Cybertronian names and Annabelle is napping alongside Ram. Ironhide threatened anyone disturbing them with being dumped in the bay, targeted as floating drones by the Aerialbots and having to get past him and his cannons on the beach for starters! I don't want to mention what happens after that. And the first meeting begins in half an hour. Really need you there big guy, Lennox out."

"Meeting?" Elita repeated.

"Project I encoded as NOAHS BOAT TWO, or Ark Two. An underground home based on our original spaceship ARK, a design we are all familiar with. We need off this base and the freedom to totally be whatever we want without humans around. They need to be reminded we stay on earth by choice and are not part of their military, especially with our sparklings. We found a dormant volcano that is partially hollowed out. Come with me the joy of my spark, hear our future at the meeting," he purred in her audio receptor.

"Like I can deny you anything," she purred back, her dark mood dispelling away.

_to be continued..._


	73. Chapter 73 A reason to fight pt 6

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Okay, I admit it, I favor the scouts over the warriors and leaders. Smart answer lists heavy this chapter, hopefully not too much. Thanks to tf wiki for background on Ratchet. Thanks to readers for the quote about Ratchet being stubborn and Prowl as a white dragon with his digging in feet pads. Onward to being destined for more than what you are right now.

TR TR TRT TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

_245. Do not upload holographic programs to any fellow Autobot that they have not chosen, requested, or selected by chip upgrades, holo emitter twin packs, connections to the Autobot backup medical mainframe, Teletran or Autobot command datapads. _

In his security office at Diego Garcia, Prowl updated operating reports, unsure whether to be relieved or concerned Sideswipe was cleared for active duty within three joors. His sensors identified two unique Cybertronian energy signatures approaching, weapon safeties engaging. Their raised mech voices outside his door had him listening in despite his strict protocols on privacy.

"Sam should decide," Ironhide stated. "Boy needs to focus."

"College is the human way," Ratchet reminded.

"So says the bot quick to snag Mikeala for training. If it were not for protecting her hands for your work, I would have her sharpshooter and field combat trained. Beat any NEST soldier with my help. Can college teach her those skills?"

"Bumblebee and Optimus approve both their choices. And Mikeala confided in me that her grades were insufficient for her to apply to college in the fields she wanted. Did not take school serious until meeting Sam. And she chose family responsibilities first," Ratchet said as their voices faded as the turned the far corner of the hallway.

Prowl filed the information away, finishing the reports before securing his office. Walking towards the main hangar, his black and white wing doors were relaxed out fully in the sunshine, absorbing solar power. The first humans he encountered gasped, one pointing. He turned his head rapidly, trying to discern their cause for concern. Sensors detected nothing except palm trees moving in the afternoon breeze, humidity and temperature were well within normal parameters, no other mechs or humans nearby and no unidentified sonar, radar, energy sources or space disruptions. He turned back forward as movement reflected from a nearby metal building and he stopped, walking towards it. Or rather, he walked towards it as the black and white snow dragon reflected back. Flexing his wing doors, the dragon flexed its membrane wings. He lifted a footpad, noting the six-toed royal claws flex down and out. He turned his head, the bright blue eyes of the dragon and long white trailing whiskers following his exact movement. He straightened fully, the dragon flexing its spines and whipping its tail.

"New alt mode?" Optimus regal baritone teased lightly, his blue and red-flamed armor shape moving into view behind him.

"Prank by the twins I believe," Prowl stated, breaking through the protective firewall and disengaging his holographic emitter.

"Not the twins," Optimus corrected. "Both are in their quarters and I did see a sketch of that design earlier with notations on how to upload the change into your system via the reports link."

"And the name of the artist?"

"Was not on the sketch," he stated without changing expression. "And I would be more concerned with our meeting upcoming."

"You foresee problems?" Instantly he switched from disgruntled mech to Second In Command.

"There are always problems, its foreseeing a solution that is optimal to all parties involved that is the challenge. But I have the feeling you will… rise to the occasion," he teased about the wings, striding ahead. "I am reviewing the last of the files now."

Prowl opened his mouth to warn him of the hologram forming around his image then decided not to. Humans he passed were openly staring at the Prime that now was a giant fuzzy white hamster with a blue swirl on his back. Only Mikeala watched him pass without laughing, a smile on her face. She snapped a photo with a camera phone and uploaded it to Sam with a text.

_* Told you I could do it, med mouse *_

_215. Do not adapt the human viewpoint of identifying their existence by their career or job title. They are born a person and die a baker, mechanic or teacher. We are too complex for limitation of a title or chosen field mastery. _

"Get a move on Ratch, meeting's going to start without us," Ironhide barked, waiting by the main hangar door. He caught the silver wrench out of reflex. "Predictable as ever."

The medic spoke without taking his optics off the human he was wrapping the bandage on. "Requirements of the field, steadiness and fulfilling expectations under pressure. You have no idea what I am capable of."

"I think I do. And you want pressure try my job," he retorted. Skids and Mudflap waited nearby in their bi pedal modes. They hesitated, needing to leave for the meeting and cautious of passing between the two bickering mechs.

"I did. Ran out of targets too fast," he quipped, securing the ankle wrap with a drop of sealant.

The warrior mech grunted, getting an idea. Digitally he created a list, attaching it to the end of his recommendations for safeties on the new base. "How fast you reviewed the plans for our meeting? I am not explaining to Prime your optics are dim from multi tasking while he is talking. Think you are surfing the internet."

"Reviewing now," Ratchet said, rising from the human hobbling towards a nearby chair as fellow soldiers straightened the tipped over ladder. Ironhide smirked, not vocalizing a word. Ratchet scanned the document, grunting as the last addition registered.

_You know you are destined to be a MEDIC when:_

_a. You are stubborn to the point of being dumb._

_b. You love to inflict damage rationalizing, "I have to repair him anyways, what are a few wrench dents?"_

_c. Your aim with wrenches is better than the best earth made targeting systems._

_d. You really care about your patients and grieve for every one offlined._

_e. You have threatened to brig patients for disobeying your medical advice._

_f. You have been thrown in the brig for being too aggressive on enforcing healthy habits._

_g. You have blackmailed security officers to lose your psyche evaluations._

_h. You use unique and odd techniques and make them work when no other bot could._

_i. Miracles are everyday, impossible takes a joor to complete._

_j. You have sacrificed your own parts for the patients._

_k. Every bot runs from you when healthy and runs to you when sick._

_l. You put off recharge as long as possible to monitor their condition._

_m. You having a bad day means it is the worse of their existence._

_n. If you offline, every patient is in deep pit._

"I'll deep pit you...," Ratchet threatened, turning around as his fingers began shifting to tools but Ironhide was gone. Skids and Mudflap backpedaled rapidly, pointing at the main roll up door. Transforming, the yellow green rescue hummer roared after the black GMC top kick. Weaving, they raced across base chasing each other, roaring out and around Bumblebee and Hound on the way to Prime's office.

::They are senior bots but not mature:: Bumblebee

"No doubt," Hound chuckled. "Nice medic list by Ironhide."

An alert pinged, identifying a medical addition to required supplies for onsite teams to carry. Both mech's accessed it then chuckled.

"Looks like Ratchet is displaying his lighter side. You know on Cybertron, he was a real party animal."

::Our Ratchet?:: Bumblebee sent, his optics spinning wide in disbelief.

"I knew him before the war when I was a youngling and he was a mid ranking noble. Attended new cycle celebrations at our residence. My parental femme use to tell me stories about his adventures and using his dry wit in the senate. He always greeted her with, "When does the party really begin tonight?"

::What happened?:: Bumblebee

"He swore never to fight, only heal. He broke that oath when a Decepticon began offlining wounded on a battlefield. He offlined his first Decepticon after it tried injecting him with the transform virus, to enslave his spark as a combiner. Ratchet needs to be with the wounded and that means the front lines and fighting. Finds himself in situations to serious to allow his party personality to emerge," Hound explained. "But this list is pretty good. Wonder what Ironhide thinks of it."

_You know you are destined to be a WEAPONS SPECIALIST:_

_a. You are stubborn beyond being dumb._

_b. You refer to your weapons as 'babies' and brag about the damage they inflict. _

_c. You aim with weapons is better than any earth made targeting system when half in recharge, red lined on energon and carrying battle damage. Ask the Decepticons but none are online to ask. _

_d. You really care for every warrior, mech or femme and miss him or her at your back plates when they are gone._

_e. You have threatened to brig them for disobeying orders on the battlefield._

_f. You have been thrown in the brig for being too aggressive and threatening others with your weapons._

_g. You have blackmailed security officers to lose your psyche evaluations._

_h. You have not seen a new weapon or technique, not already in your database, for thousands of years._

_i. Battles are everyday, ambushes take a little longer to turn around._

_j. You have given your own weapons to others in the middle of a fight._

_k. Every Autobot runs from your temper and hides behind you when running at Decepticons._

_l. You put off recharge as long as possible to give the others time to escape._

_m. You have a bad day and the battle is lost._

_n. If you offline, every warrior is in deep pit._

::Good but the concept could use improvement:: Bumblebee

"Scouts do lead the way, show them how it should be done?" Hound stopped, rubbing his chin plates with a green armored hand while processing. "Sounds good." Two minutes later the geographical map of the proposed area had a tag file added, pinging a specific CMO and Weapons specialist with the following addition.

_You know you are destined to be a SCOUT / GUARDIAN:_

_a. You hope the enemy is stubborn, dumb and careless but rely on your own speed and stealth._

_b. What you record and report guarantees the most damage to occur in the right area._

_c. You aim to stay hidden in spots other mechs could never find, fit into or reach in time. _

_d. You grieve for those offlined you could not save and carry their memory and the report back to the rest so they may honor and know the sacrifice made. _

_e. You have threatened to brig officers for ignoring your intelligence reports._

_f. You are thrown in the brig for interfering in a situation instead of watching a bot get tortured or abandoned to offline. _

_g. You have blackmailed security officers to lose your psyche evaluations_

_h. New and unknown is every day normal to you. _

_i. Finding what is lost or hidden is easy; figuring out who is missing is harder._

_j. You sacrifice relationships, family and your own recharge berth to stay cold, needing energon and alone to allow others those comforts. _

_k. Any bot can run from you but not hide._

_l. You put off recharge as long as possible to find their hidden base and all their traps._

_m. You having a bad day means real danger is coming. _

_n. If you offline, every team following is blind and without warning._

In his office, Optimus shuttered his optics, locking down his holographic imager. "One orn, just one orn without a prank among my officers. Is that too much to ask?" He vented rapidly then returned to watching the various mechs and humans enter and take their assigned seats. Sam and Mikeala entered, laughing. They greeted him, accepting a ride in his armored hand to the top of the desk. He handed them a paper version of the basics, letting them read at their own pace. While waiting, his system alert pinged, showing three new file additions. 'Let's hope they show that much enthusiasm for the new plans,' He reviewed then created a new document. In seconds, it was completed and posted to the mainframe, locked into his private files.

_You know you are destined to be a PRIME:_

_a. You put up with bots that are stubborn, dumb and make lists instead of their assigned tasks._

_b. You spend joors fixing the damage and mess your team inflicts the moment you are busy elsewhere._

_c. You aim for an end to this war._

_d. Too many have offlined under your command when you had no control over the situation and all you can do is to learn and try to be prepared for the next battle. _

_e. You have threatened to brig them to get a moment's peace._

_f. You would love to hide in the brig to get rest but it never works. _

_g. You comfort upset security officers who are being blackmailed. ** Copies of said materials are in your private storage on all parties involved. _

_h. You never cease to be amazed at what your troops think of but not through to create problems you have to fix_

_i. Your job is impossible, you were never asked, every bot thinks they want it and retirement is not an option. _

_j. You listen to hours of pain, sorrow, and misery while hiding your own._

_k. Every bot runs to you with problems and you wish you could run away._

_l. Recharge is what you order your troops to do while you continue working._

_m. You have a bad day and the war could be lost._

_n. If you offline, the Autobot forces and earth are both in deep pit._

In their private quarters, Elita read the list, lip plates forming a smile. "If you can't brig them join them hmm? I may be under orders to rest until the sparkling is in its shell but that does not mean I cannot stay active. Anything you do lover, I see. And making me wait until second meeting means I have time free. Here is one for you." Her smaller fingers danced across the keys of the datapad, creating her own list.

_You know you are a destined to be a FEMME:_

_a. When you put up with all of the above and choose to have sparklings anyways._

_b. One angry look and mechs fear the damage you will inflict._

_c. You aim for peace and quiet and never get it unless you turn your audio sensors off and lock yourself in your quarters._

_d. You forbid any talking about offlining and bad days to keep mechs focused on existing now._

_e. Time out in the corner works better than any brig._

_f. Security officers consult you on how to make the other bots behave._

_g. Very little scares you and almost nothing surprises you with sparkling, youngling and mech behavior_

_h. You give hope, joy and a smile when you are aching, tired and weary._

_i. You recharge after every other bot is secure in his or her own recharge berths and rise before they do._

_j. If you offline, the Transformer race is one-step closer to becoming extinct._

_k. You know you love your Prime, care for your medic, assist your weapons specialist and wait patiently for the return of the scout and never want to be online without them around._

_**Story Arc – A Reason to fight for the future (pt 6)**_

Optimus office was full for the first meeting. His desk was back against the wall, furniture placed on top for the humans to sit by the mini bots on its top surface. Humans were only a handful, Sam, Mikeala, Major Lennox and his wife Sarah, Master Sergeant Epps, SASF Agent Graham, and Captain Jorgensen. The bots sitting or resting on the desk included Skids, Mudflap, Arcee, Firestar, Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, and Cosmos. Optimus stood to the side of the desk, flanked by Ultra Magnus and Trailbreaker. Jazz, Ratchet and Ironhide were on the left side for the room. Prowl, Wheeljack, First Aid, and Red Alert were on the right. The remaining wall served as a view screen and data presentation area. While the transformers could have shared data among themselves in an instant, they honored the humans with a visual way.

Optimus smiled at his startled officers. "You really didn't think we kept our funds sitting in a vault somewhere? Storing it like human hoarders? It's only value is what it can obtain for us."

"We invested half of it in a variety of sources," Prowl began as complicated financial transactions began scrolling across the screen.

"Precious metals?" Red Alert asked, the security officer familiar with human concepts of wealth and the procedures they took to protect it.

"No, not in the human sense. Iron, copper, steel, and other working metals in large quantities. Human economies were at a virtual standstill and we need the raw materials to reshape and alter into our products," Wheeljack stated, his sidebars flashing white.

"The repairs!" Trailbreaker figured out first, being a defensive strategist. "Ratchet and Wheeljack are always making metal conversions. The asteroid runs with Ultra Magnus. They were tests to see what we could adapt on a small scale before large scale production?"

"We bought most the land and the rest the government deeded to us. Our interest in preserving the beauty and wilderness of the area overrode two other companies wanting to exploit the minerals and land itself. We will work with various groups to replant part of the forest and accept transferred animals from inhabited zones that have encroached on their natural areas with construction," Prime flipped through the slide presentations.

"I thought the treaty forbid us owning land or businesses or interfering in their world directly?" Firestar asked, her red and gold armor clashing with Cliffjumper's red armor as they sat next to each other.

"With their current economy, they were willing to renegotiate that one clause," Prime stated.

"And added about four hundred pages of limitations," Sam sighed, shaking his head in remembrance.

"That's what you two have been doing?" Mikeala exclaimed, fitting the pieces together. "The secret trips with Optimus while I stayed here? Thought they were for government show and tells on the Transformers and NEST. Or college trips for you geology class."

"My Prime gift is diplomat," he reminded while delighted he kept his secret that long from her. "And they certainly were not fun vacations! No offense," the boy glanced up at Optimus.

"None taken Sam. Their…. behavior was enough to strain my core systems at times," the tall mech admitted.

"That bad?" Ironhide grunted as the Primes, one ancient mech and one young human nodded.

"Though Leo thinks I am double dating on Mikeala with a government girl named Asser, as in Autobot secret ship rebuild," Sam laughed.

"Ship? You're leaving?" Epps asked, glancing back and forth between the Autobot command officers, trying to catch up on the details.

"No," Wheeljack took over as his sidebars flashed blue. "The fuel to power a ship that size is not obtainable from your primitive oil and coal technology. Even your nuclear fission and fusion is basic."

"The ship design is proven for long term inhabitation among our kind. As we need to expand, we can go deeper or lower in to the area without disturbing the external wilderness. Phase 2 involves an external above ground base for military partnership nearby with Phase 3 a fully functional Autobot designed and enhanced city," Ultra Magnus finally spoke, his white, red and blue frame commanding by size alone. Only Prime matched his military grade armor.

Ironhide narrowed his optics, reasoning. ::Ship will be eventually workable?:: Ironhide

::No. Would tear the mountain apart. Labs, research and medical for our species without human interference and a safe place for our sparklings:: Optimus

::Phase three city will be a Transformer?:: Arcee

::Figured that out did you? Yes, will be one of us:: Jazz

::We have plans to build more Dinobots, modify our existing alt modes more for this planet and less for war: Wheeljack

::Combat teams are needed but our focus must shift away from war:: Optimus

::Our numbers are dwindling beyond the point of recovery with the Allspark gone unless we begin breeding and slow our offlining rate:: Ratchet

::Earth is our home until we can return to Cybertron:: Optimus

::And we can be productive here. We can move parts later to Cybertron after installing a spacebridge. We know the Decepticons had one in this galaxy, which is how they beat us here:: Prowl

::Or move ship parts into space for orbital shipbuilding to make it functional:: Ultra Magnus

::That will be beyond their lifetimes won't it?:: Bumblebee asked, glancing down at Sam and Mikeala.

::Possibly. Their children may accompany us to Cybertron and into space but we shall see Primus willing:: Optimus

_To be continued… _


	74. Chapter 74 Hidden within a Spark pt 1

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. New story arc that is going to be complicated and I will try to post it without too many time lapses. Treat for those who read this on Monday, several chapters in different versions added for your enjoyment.

**You will need to add IF AN AUTOBOT DO NOT DO THE FOLLOWING ****2, 3, 4, and 5 ****to your story alert, author alert, favorite story etc **_**as they appear**_**. **

This version has gotten to huge to manage BUT WILL CONTINUE!!! When the next piece, # 2 gets up to about 75 – 80 chapters I will switch to IF AN AUTOBOT DO NOT DO THE FOLLOWING 3 and so forth. Look for my writing name "hummergrey" if in doubt.

Artinghle Four does not exist elsewhere, made up name. I read a clip where Optimus once had an alt mode as a small ship on a water world. Same red and blue in general but different transform. The sand bar incident is also not elsewhere. Again, if you want to use anything from here, please ask and send me the link to add to my profile page. Until all are one, Layra aka hummergrey and Prowl.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

In the main Autobot hanger, Prowl glared at the wall screen, displaying a list instead of the weather map. "Who?" he asked, not really expecting an answer. The mainframe had been hacked, that much was clear. However, which bot was another matter as no intrusion traces remained in the system. He doubted it was the twins this time even as laughter or discreet snickers sounded from the others as they read.

_You know you are destined to be a COMMAND / SECURITY OFFICER:_

_a. You make rules to assist uneducated and stubborn mechs and femmes._

_b. You draw weapons only as a reminder of force and fire only in those situations that strictly require force to restrain and not to offline._

_c. You way with words are better than all the literature of earth._

_d. You care about your fellow Autobots even if you spend all your time locked in your little office with datapads. _

_e. You have brigged every bot._

_f. You are in the brig often to clean it, inspect it and make it escape proof but never for being in trouble._

_g. You allow yourself to be blackmailed but what is in your locked and nine times tamper proof secured files on them is a thousand times worse. _

_h. Consistency, enforcement and reliability are every breem guidelines to follow. _

_i. Impossible is on the forbidden list, as is idiot proof, fireproof and the phrase: this plan will work, I guarantee it._

_j. Arresting and confining your friends is not what you want out of life but you enforce the rules to save others from harm they may do to themselves or each other even as it costs you to be the heavy bot to do it. _

_k. You are greeted with "I didn't do it!" instead of good morning, nice day or how are you. _

_l. You recharge after thoroughly completing the day's work, the area is secure and tomorrows pile is ready to review or hand out. _

_m. You having a bad day means every other bot is having fun, lots and lots of fun. _

_n. If you offline, every prankster would miss you appreciating and recoding their handiwork in reports for the next generation. _

"That covers every major category," Prowl vented then noticed Bumblebee pointing over his shoulder. He activated his rear view cam, reading the new list that appeared on the wall.

Wheeljack's bars flashed into a soft brown before fading out. "Not what I wanted," the inventor murmured.

"Me either," Prowl noted.

_You know you are destined to be a TWIN:_

_a. You ignore the rules being smart, sleek and stubborn. The more they learn to accept your behavior, the less they have to forgive later. _

_b. Actions on the battlefield make up for your behavior off it. _

_c. You can blow a command officer's emotional processor faster than a Decepticon with words and actions._

_d. You care about your fellow Autobots and spread out the pranks evenly so no bot is left out. _

_e. You are in the brig more than your own recharge berth._

_f. You are jealous when another bot is in your brig, even if for a short time. _

_g. You blackmail only a few, the stuff is too good to waste if no other mech or femme knows it. _

_h. You demonstrate creativity, uniqueness and achieve results not even imaginable until you did it. _

_i. Impossible is the challenge to get your day going._

_j. You sacrifice your time and creativity to make sure your fellow bots lighten up and have fun. _

_k. You are greeted with "what did you do now?" instead of good morning, how are you or what is new? _

_l. You recharge earlier or later because that is the perfect time to carry out your plans. _

_m. You having a bad day means Prime, Prowl or Ratchet is having a good one._

_n. If you offline, every bot would become too serious and boring._

Ultra Magnus noted the lack of colors on Wheeljack's bars, discerning the reason. The tall commander took two steps, moving across half the floor effortlessly, careful to not jar or come too close to the smaller bots. With a hydraulic hissing, he crouched low towards the pink and white femme. "Arcee, are you free? Need your help with a project."

"Why me?" She looked up, keeping the same low vocal tones.

"I think in terms of military strategy. I see the problem, know the solution but am unable to form the exact steps required to implement it." He explained as the others continued making comments about the list.

"Meaning?" Her optics focused tightly on him, wondering exactly what he was asking.

"I need your skill at reaching to the spark and helping to heal it. Wheeljack has been left out and deserves more. You helped treat him in recovery after the Decepticon encounter. And been a friend to any bot here that needs it without forming a serious personal relationship. Why did you never chose to be a medic?'

"My profile came back a resounding no because of Factor 10ba," she admitted, her tone sheepish.

"Which is?" he tilted his head, unable to find that code reference.

"Too kind. I grieve too hard; suffer too much when I cannot help them. You have to move on and keep moving or your spark dims into nothingness at the end. Medics may last eons and never crash, others crash too quickly."

"You would not last," he realized.

"No, I am not Ratchet. He has been a medic longer than I have existed," her tone reflected her respect. They moved to the corner to talk and a minute later, the wall screen flashed, then the new list appeared.

"Hey Wheeljack, read this!" Hound yelled, pointing towards the wall as the inventor turned, barely raising his optics. His bars flashed a rainbow of colors as he read.

_You know you are destined to be an INVENTOR / SCIENTIST:_

_a. You are intent on your work to the point of forgetting to recharge, top up energon or acknowledge time passing. We will check on you but you need to dust yourself off once in awhile._

_b. Damage is part of the learning process. _

_c. Your guesses are better than most solid facts of other races._

_d. You care about your fellow Autobots and make the best inventions to help them, or that is the plan._

_e. You visit bots in the brig to find out how they managed to create that effect, explosion or result. _

_f. You are never in the brig but med bay is more familiar than your own private recharge area. _

_g. Your idea of blackmail is building a super encrypted message system._

_h. You design and make work (after a few tries) what no other being could imagine._

_i. Impossible was passed fifth invention back, now you are beyond theory._

_j. You sacrifice your time, energy and effort to improve all our existences. _

_k. You are greeted with "is this going to blow up?" instead of nice job, good work or this will make a difference. _

_l. You forget what recharge is._

_m. You having a bad day means we wait outside med bay to know you are okay._

_n. If you offline, we are all in trouble when the first tech breaks down. _

_o. And even though you might seem to be last, that does not mean you are not the best. _

The inventor vented, rubbing at his ever-present battle mask, too overwhelmed to say anything. Ultra Magnus smiled at Arcee, his fingers thanking her in battle code gestures.

_235. Do not mistake appearances of skill for true expertise. Humans use labels and we alt modes to describe our functions but that does not mean they are fact._

In the hangar, the assembled mechs and humans watched the sidewall, doubling as an on screen surface as the local news continued. _"The four experienced divers are still missing at this hour. One body has been located but will not be named pending notification to family. Again, the search has been temporarily called off as tropics storm Hubris has over swept the area. But sadly, there remains not much hope for the missing divers." _The station switched to commercials and a tech automatically put the sound on mute.

"Not much chance is there?" Master Sergeant Epps asked, leaning back in his chair on the communications platform.

"Listen," Major Will Lennox pointed up at the roof as the tropical storm winds howled, rattling and crashing against the structure. "Wave swells are incredible and their air tanks ran out early yesterday." He put both hands on his head as he hunched over the console. "They called the search off to switch to recovery. We've been asked to assist with damage control once the winds die down on the mainland."

"But the report said they were experienced," Cliffjumper stated, his red frame the smallest and lightest of the mechs there, being a mini bot.

"Experienced does not mean smart," Ratchet corrected sourly. His green and yellow colors were everywhere as paced back and forth. Silverbolt and the Aerialbots were hundreds of miles away, waiting to return. The island bound Transformers waited, ready to help with clean up as sensors interlinked to the external cameras and weather buoys, enjoying the wild side of earth's weather. "Experienced mechs offline all the time. Their species is no different than ours."

"Except they have no internal comms," Cliffjumper began

"No Prime link for when they offline to let every other bot know," Prowl added.

"No external sensors of x-ray, thermo graphic, radar, sonar, global positioning, and galaxy wide star positioning," Ratchet grumped, still pacing.

"No chassis mounted weapons," Ironhide rolled his cannons once.

"No subspace storage capability," Wheeljack noted with a raised hand.

"No holographic capability," Hound tapped his famous wrist emitters for emphasis.

"Short existence spans," Ultra Magnus held two fingers very close to demonstrate.

"And no spark," Arcee tapped her chest plates.

"Other than that, heck, we could be twin species," Epps joked, looking ruefully over at Will.

"For a planet that is 71 percent water, maybe we should have sea capability?" Wheeljack asked, his hand tapping on his crossed arm.

"I thought you guys and getting wet did not mix?" Will reminded.

"Submersion is detrimental to our kind over an extended period of time but a modification to a sea specific alt mode on an incoming bot would be possible," Wheeljack explained, his light bars flashing as he reviewed possibilities. "Ironhide landed in a swimming pool in his protoform upon arrival here. And there are other instances of us in water modes," the inventor added before quickly closing his lip plates as though keeping a secret.

Ratchet and Ironhide looked at Optimus and smirked as the Prime shifted his stance defensively, folding his arms across his simulated glass panel chest.

::Not one word:: Optimus warned, his cooling fans kicking up a notch to override his response to a memory he had tried hard to forget.

::Never crossed my processor:: Ratchet smirked, making a wavy up and down hand motion.

:: We saw you as a sea craft on Artinghle Four and you were good at until you hit that hidden sand bar at full speed:: Ironhide

::Highest I have seen your chassis soar yet:: Ratchet

::Highest your vocals were too:: Ironhide sent, ignoring his glare. ::Lighten up Prime. A laugh would do us good::

::So would a stay in med bay:: Optimus lowered his right arm, ratcheting his gun and pointing it Ironhide's direction.

::Good for whom?:: Ratchet

_**Story Arc – Hidden within a Spark (pt 1)**_

The meeting in Optimus office continued as Wheeljack explained the technical parts of the ship.

"The Ark is a Vanguard class Deep Space Interceptor. Five decks with accommodations for a crew of 300 Transformers. The original design required less than twenty to maintain and fly. Its environment is fully automated and self-sufficient, and ours will be land based. We will convert the Engine area into storage and human quarters as required."

Will's phone beeped as he slid it out then read it, swearing and focusing everyone there on him instantly. "Good news, the comet signals are confirmed. Bad news, the report is from yesterday, early morning Pacific Coast time."

Optimus did the instant calculation of the time difference, repressing a swear word of his own. "They are landing in the next joor?"

"Teams are prepping gear now, roll in twenty minutes. Best I can do," the human stated, half apologizing.

"Understood, we will be ready. Ironhide, Prowl, rest of my command team, be ready. Except Ratchet, I need you to stay here. First Aid will accompany us," Optimus ordered.

"Why First Aid? I'm Chief Medical Officer," he grumbled.

Prime switched to his internal comm. ::Events may not go smoothly. I want you where with Elita and the sparklings. The femmes will need you if anything happens to Ironhide or me::

Ratchet nodded. Sam looked at the medic, eyes blinking rapidly. He swayed, reaching out for Mikeala.

* You all right? Vital signs fluctuated * Bumblebee texted onto his phone even as the yellow scout leaned in close, bracing a hand against his back.

"Glyphs" he whispered, rubbing at his eyes. "I'm fine guys. Need a moment." The conversation was ignored amidst the sudden flurry of movement and activity.

"We have eight confirmed inbound comet trajectories, let's see who is joining the party," Will said.

_To be continued…_


End file.
